All That Glitters
by Lou-deadfroggy
Summary: There are greater forces at work in Middle-Earth besides those connected to the rings. From the daughter of a wizard to lowly painter to future queen, one elf endures the greatest hardships of all to find that not all that glitters is gold.
1. An Offer To Tell

**All That Glitters**

**Prologue**

Gandalf stared at the elf walking some distance ahead. He supposed he should have gotten used to it by now but the sense of jealousy never went away. Arwen fell into step next to him.

"Would it help if I said that Saruman used to dislike him too?" she asked. The party were strolling along the road out from Minas Tirith, leading their horses. They were in no particular hurry; in fact they didn't actually want to arrive at their destination at all.

"Not really, I don't dislike him, I just envy him," he said quietly. The beautiful new queen of Gondor smiled sadly.

"I envied her for a long time, maybe I still do, but I would not have changed anything, not seeing them now." Gandalf looked at her in surprise and was forced to rethink his judgement of the elf beside him. Arwen noticed his expression and laughed, something she had been doing a lot more often recently.

"I am not quite as selfish as you all seem to think." She smiled at his blush.

"Oh it is perfectly alright, I am selfish true enough, but I can see what is right. Part of the problem is the guilt of having those, unsavoury, emotions," she told him in a matter of fact way. Gandalf took a long hard look at her; he had often thought Arwen to be a spoilt girl with very little in the way of brains. Her sudden perception showed him just how little he knew her.

"I suppose, I just wish I had come to my senses a bit quicker," Gandalf said finally.

"She was lost to everyone else about two and a half thousand years ago Mithrandir," Arwen laughed. Gandalf's ice blue eyes opened wide in shock.

"That young?" he asked incredulously. Arwen laughed again, a high pearl from musical bells.

"Well, they did not know it then but yes, it has been a long time in the coming." Her voice softened as the elves they were watching broke out in rich laughter.

"Be happy for them Mithrandir, fate may not be finished with them yet," Arwen said sadly.

"Whatever more is there to do?" Gandalf asked.

"I think of the company here only they shall know." She sighed at the thought of her new found mortality.

"The enemy is gone, I can see no more danger," he said. Arwen's face darkened. Her voice rose and fell ominously.

"She will always walk apart, whether she wishes to or not that is her fate. You will leave, we all will, and she will be alone again." Her words stung him though he did not know why.

"Surely she has found peace with him?" he asked, almost afraid of what the suddenly wise Arwen would say next.

"Yes but he will never truly be at peace here, not anymore." With that the newly crowned Queen led her horse forward to the pair they had been discussing.

"Arwen! We thought you were determined to remain at the rear!" Legolas teased her good-heartedly.

"I do find you all so much more pleasant from behind," she laughed. The blond elf moved aside to make room for her.

"Ada looks worried," the third elf said, looking back.

"Who, yours or mine?" Arwen continued to joke.

"Both actually." Legolas frowned at the pair of wise fathers walking now side by side.

"Maybe they think it is going to rain," he said brightly. They laughed again, the sound of musical joy for all the company to hear.

"Deep thoughts old friend?" Elrond inquired as he took his daughter's place beside the old man.

"What's she like, Elrond?" Gandalf asked the half-elven lord.

"Intelligent, stubborn, fragile," he answered. Gandalf sighed.

"I missed so much of her growing up," the wizard half murmured.

"Then let me tell you what you should have seen," Elrond offered. Gandalf smiled at his friend in gratitude.

"We have a long way to go and I do not mind," the Lord of Imladris continued.

"Thank you my friend," Gandalf said.

"She told me once, in Rivendell, it was not a light hearted story." The white-haired man nodded sadly. Elrond was about to start the narrative when a shout from up front made them look up.

"Yarna!" Legolas and Arwen cried in alarm as the third elf, a thin dark-haired girl in green and brown ran out from the road into the surrounding fields. Crouched low amongst the wildflowers she waved her friends away. After a moment she straightened and laughed at them for their worried expressions. In her arms she carried a baby fox cub.

"Poor thing wandered too far, the den is just up ahead," she explained as she took her place back in the line. Her companions laughed and petted the tiny creature she was holding. The two elders smiled at the scene.

"Well, you were there at the start Gandalf, I think you can remember," Elrond said. He nodded and thought back to a chilly winter morning over three thousand years before.

**Author's Note: This is going to be very AU but only a few non-canon characters. No Mary-Sues I promise. Warning to those who like Arwen: she's a selfish minx and I seriously twist her and Aragorn's relationship. Criticism is welcome, if you don't like it then tell me what's wrong as long as it's not the whole idea in general. I won't promise regular updates because I have a life and it takes precedence unfortunately. The disclaimer's at the bottom in this so here it is: I do not own Lord of the Rings, the Hobbit or any of the canon characters, they all belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and I'm not making any money from this. There, I won't repeat myself every chapter so don't sue, it's not mine.**

**Also this story is part of a challenge me and my friends set ourselves. Please take the time to read Lucinda Green's (Harry Potter), Harriate Slate's (Jane Eyre) and Oh Deer Oh Deer's (Doctor Who) stories all titled "All That Glitters" once they put them up.**


	2. The New Arrival

**The New Arrival**

Two elflings sat on a stone bench surrounded by frost covered trees and hibernating flowers. The older, a boy who looked about twelve even though he had seen hundreds of years go by, sat with his arm around a younger girl of about six human years. They were very similar, both were slim, had wide blue eyes, pale skin and silvery blond hair. The garden was quiet around them, covered in a light dusting of snow. They had been sent out of the house early in the morning and had been sitting on the beautifully carved bench for several hours.

"Gandir?" the girl asked her brother quietly, her perfect face raised up in an expression of worry.

"Yes Alsea?" The boy stroked her starlit hair.

"I do not want a little brother or sister; I like it as just us, Ada and Naneth. What if they like the baby more than us?" Questioning sky blue eyes filled with anxious tears looked up at him.

"Why should they? A baby cannot do anything. You and I can do so much when all a baby can do is cry. You will see, they will still love us better," Gandir reassured her. The little girl smiled contentedly, snuggled down and promptly fell asleep against her brother in the assurance that she would still be wanted despite the new arrival.

"She has your eyes," Gandalf commented as he held his new daughter. A pair of bright yellow eyes studied him from beneath a mop of pitch black hair. Isowen smiled weakly from the bed and held out her arms. Her husband handed her the little bundle. Her face radiated joy at the newborn she cradled.

"And your hair," he added. Isowen cooed to her daughter who still hadn't made a sound.

"Do you think that something is wrong? Should she not be crying?" she asked anxiously. The elf woman who had aided the birth stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on the mother's shoulder.

"Do not worry my Lady, many elven babies do not cry, it is a good sign," she said. Isowen relaxed at the reassurance that all was well with her baby.

"Should I fetch the others?" Gandalf asked, heading towards the door. She nodded.

"Yes, let them come and meet their new little sister." Isowen smiled. He left the room and went in search of his elder children.

"Gandir! Alsea!" he called. The two elflings appeared from behind a bush.

"Yes Ada?" Gandir asked.

"Come and meet the new arrival, you have a sister!" Gandalf smiled. The two didn't seem overly pleased but followed obediently.

"What is she like Ada?" Gandir asked more for something to say than out of any real interest.

"Just like your Naneth, dark hair and eyes like gold," Gandalf told him. The boy scowled.

"If she looks just like Naneth then she will like her better," he thought to himself.

Isowen's chamber lead directly to the gardens and the two children peered around the open door.

"Come on in, come and meet her," their mother called happily. Gandir stepped forward slowly and glared at the bundle. The baby cooed in delight at the new face. The parents smiled at what they thought was a perfect scene. Alsea followed her brother and wormed her way onto the bed next to Isowen.

"What's her name Naneth?" she asked quietly. Both parents were silent for a moment.

"Yarna," Gandalf said suddenly. Isowen looked up in surprise.

"Oh I thought," she murmured.

"Yarna," he said again firmly. Isowen nodded slowly, accepting the name. It was not unusual for an elf to have several names, one given by each parent so she let her husband choose one.

"Yarna, that is not an elven name," Gandir said, glaring once more at the tiny baby.

"It is Maia," his father told him simply. Isowen frowned; Gandalf had not named the elder two after his own race.

"Well I see you have added to the nursery sister," a voice called from the garden. Glorfindel strolled in smiling at the family.

"We do have a front door Glorfindel," Gandalf reminded him playfully. The blond elf shrugged and bent down to pick up Alsea.

"Look what uncle has brought for you little one." The mighty Balrog slayer fished a fruit out of his pocket and gave to the little elfling. It was a strange red oval. Alsea turned it over quizzically.

"It is called a pomegranate, here." Glorfindel took out a knife and cut the fruit in half. Putting both the elfling and the pomegranate down he proceeded towards his sister. Gandir wandered over and soon both children were busy eating the red pips.

The blond elf smiled as Isowen handed him his niece. The baby gurgled happily and promptly fell asleep.

"She is beautiful, just like her mother," he said quietly. Gandalf smiled.

"Her name is Yarna," he told his brother-in-law. Glorfindel nodded as if the name was to be expected.

"She has eyes like molten gold," he commented as baby Yarna briefly roused herself as her uncle handed her back to Isowen's waiting arms.

"Brother, would you do something for me, please?" Isowen asked.

"Of course, what do you wish me to do?" Glorfindel replied at once.

"Go and tell Celebrian that I have more than she does." They all laughed at the absurd competition between the two friends.

"Oh that reminds me, Elrond sent you this." Glorfindel dived once more into his vast pockets and produced a beautiful hand mirror set with precious stones. He read the note attached out loud.

"For Yarna, if ever she needs guidance." Gandalf chuckled.

"Typical Elrond, knowing what we would name her before she was even born," he said. Isowen placed the mirror on her bedside table.

"It is a beautiful gift and I hope you will thank Elrond for me Glor." Her brother nodded.

"I suppose Celebrian knew Yarna's name and gender before you did Melda." Gandalf smiled as Isowen scowled.

"Oh well, she made up for it," she said and shrugged.

Gandir and Alsea had finished the pomegranate by now.

"Ada, can we go to the harbour?" Gandir asked his father. Gandalf showed no sign of wanting to leave his wife so Glorfindel stepped in.

"How about I tale you and Alsea down to the harbour?" he offered. Their parents smiled gratefully.

"Uncle can we go see the ships?" Alsea begged as the two elflings dragged the Balrog slayer out of the room and towards the sea. Living in the Grey Havens had only heightened the young elves' love of the ocean and it was their favourite place.

"You should rest," Gandalf said as Isowen stifled a yawn. He picked up Yarna and left the room, blowing a kiss to his wife as he closed the door.

Once outside the bedroom he made his way to the library. It might not have been the best place for a baby but placing the bundle on his lap the wizard began to read a book whilst Yarna lay placidly, content and still amongst her blankets.

**Author's note: Melda means beloved in Sindarian according to the site I used. The pomegranate is one of the criteria for a challenge. Please take the time to read Harriate Slate's All That Glitters as she tries to put the fruit in Jane Eyre for a crazy game between friends.**


	3. By The Sea

**By The Sea**

Yarna splashed happily in the waves, her mother Isowen watching closely. The little elfling had just acquired a new skill: walking. Both Isowen and Gandalf wished that the inquisitive toddler had not learned to move on two legs since their youngest child had a knack of wandering off. Suddenly a wave knocked the child off her feet and she found herself sitting down up to her neck in water. Isowen ran over and picked her daughter up.

"Shh _Iell nin, Naneth_ is here," she comforted the crying elfling. The wind blew around the pair, chilling the wet child who began crying again. Isowen continued to comfort her as they made their way up through the streets towards home.

They were halfway there when the heavens opened and both mother and daughter were drenched by the sudden downpour.

"Isowen! Come in here out of the rain," a kind voice called. She turned to see a bearded elf standing in the doorway to his house. Círdan the Shipwright beckoned for her to enter. Isowen hesitated for a moment until Yarna turned in her mother's arms and Isowen saw that her lips had were blue. Crossing the street she slipped through the door into a cosy room with a roaring fire. Círdan closed the door against the elements before showing the soaking pair to seats by the fire.

"Coastal weather alas it is unpredictable," he said as he handed Isowen a cup of tea. She nodded and thanked him. The old elf then sunk into a large chair and watched as Yarna edged as close to the fire as her mother would allow.

"Thank you Círdan," Isowen said again. The Shipwright smiled as the elfling snuck even closer to the flames.

"Well, she is the exact image of you," he murmured. Isowen smiled at her black haired daughter.

"Still she has the same air about her that Gandalf has," Círdan said. "Come here child." He held out his hands and Yarna left off trying to set fire to herself and climbed onto his lap.

"Now little one," the ancient elf warned her as she pulled happily at his beard. Yarna giggled but left the beard alone. He handed her a small object which immediately became her focus of attention.

"You listen carefully little one; many have spoken of you long before you were born." Isowen looked surprised at that. Círdan carried on, talking only to the little elf on his lap.

"Yarna Gold-Grey thou shall be known,

Long shall thou wander and never find home.

The time will come when five are but four,

Take up thine place against hell's door." The Shipwright fell silent. Isowen shifted uncomfortably for a moment before the old elf stood up suddenly and held Yarna out to her mother.

"The rain has stopped, give Gandalf my greetings," he said. Miraculously the downpour had ended as quickly as it had started. Isowen bade goodbye to the ancient Círdan and they continued home. The Shipwright was not known for making prophecies and Yarna's silence was making her mother worried.

"_Neth_?" a small infant voice asked quietly. Isowen hoisted Yarna up onto her hip.

"Yes _Iell nin_?" she removed an errant strand of black hair from her daughter's face.

"_Lent_!" the youngster exclaimed happily, holding up the object Círdan had given her. It was a tiny wooded boat, minutely carved so every plank and porthole was visible. The sculpture was beautiful, a white ship, Isowen knew the child had no idea what it signified.

"Yes Yarna, you have _lent_, a boat." She smiled. Yarna waved the object around again before looking solemnly into her mother's golden eyes with her own.

"_Valino_r," the elfling said suddenly. Isowen almost dropped her in surprise. How could Yarna, a baby of only twenty-three, know that a white ship meant going to _Valinor_?

"_Ada_!" she cried, her attention passing from her mother's worried face to Gandalf who was sitting in the garden.

"Hello girls, how was the sea?" he asked.

"She was enjoying it until the rain came," Isowen told him. Gandalf frowned.

"Rain? I've been sitting out here since you left and there's been not a cloud not the sky," he said. Isowen placed Yarna down on the ground and sat beside her husband.

"A sudden downpour, we waited it out with Círdan." Yarna waddled over to her parents.

"_Ada_! _Lent_!" she cried and held up the boat for him to see.

"Very nice Yarna. Did Círdan give it to you?" The girl nodded then wandered over to a bush and began mumbling to it.

"He recited a prophecy Mithrandir," Isowen said quietly. Gandalf looked at her sharply.

"What did he say?"

"He spoke of her wandering without finding a home, of five that will become four and taking her place against hell. Do you understand this?" she asked quietly. Gandalf was silent for a moment.

"I don't know my dear, I don't know," he murmured.

... ...

"Alsea put your sister down," Gandalf wearily told the blond girl for what must have been the hundredth time. Alsea crossed her pale blue eyes at him before dropping the toddler on the floor. To her credit Yarna didn't as much as flinch, being used to her siblings dropping her on occasion.

"What are you doing _Ada_?" Alsea asked innocently, wandering over to the desk at which the wizard was sat. Gandalf looked up from a pile of parchment he was sorting through.

"Reading a report your uncle sent me," he told her. Alsea grinned and wormed her way onto her father's lap.

"That is boring, play with me instead!" she asked, giving him very cute puppy-dog eyes. Gandalf chuckled at the expression she had learned from her mother.

"Sorry child, go and play with your sister." He gestured to the black-haired toddler on the floor who was trying very hard to put her foot in her mouth.

"Yarna is boring, she cannot speak!" Alsea moaned.

"Of course she can! See she has learnt a new word, Yarna!" The elfling looked up from her foot that was half way to her mouth.

"Where is _Naneth_?" Gandalf asked her in the voice all adults use when talking to babies. Yarna smiled toothlessly.

"Loren!" she cried excitedly. The grey wizard looked at his eldest daughter.

"See, she knows that _Naneth_ is in _Lorien_," he said. Alsea narrowed her eyes at the toddler.

"Yarna is boring; maybe Gandir will play with me." She climbed off Gandalf's lap and stalked out the door in search of her brother. Yarna resumed her attempts at placing her foot in her mouth and was rewarded by it kicking her in the eye. Mithrandir laughed and went over to pick her up.

"There now you silly elfling, come and see what Glorfindel has to say to us." He sat back down at the desk with Yarna on his lap. Unlike her sister she sat quietly as he continued to work. Once the report and reply were done Gandalf looked around for a letter recently arrived from Saruman. Yarna decided that her father had done enough work for one day and picked up a quill.

"Now Yarna, you mustn't touch that," he warned. Yarna ignored him and proceeded to scribble on a luckily unused piece of parchment.

"Oh I see, you want to write a letter to do you? Alright." Gandalf took the quill from her and wrote out an elvish word.

"See, do you know what that says?" he asked the toddler knowing full well she didn't.

"_Nin_," she said quietly. Gandalf gasped. No, she couldn't have meant that, saying "me" when he had written her name; that wasn't possible, no she had just mumbled something in baby talk.

"Yarna, that's what it says, that's what your name looks like. Pretty isn't it?" Yarna slapped the paper before grabbing hold of her father's beard.

"Oh no child, not the beard!" he laughed and detached the tiny hand.

"_Ada_! Bleh!" she said solemnly before grinning sheepishly at him. Gandalf looked at his daughter suspiciously and held her up.

"Oh, _hannon le_ Yarna, I have to go change you now," he grumbled as he carried her out of the library. Babies, thought the exasperated wizard.

**Author's note: Lent: boat, Iell: daughter, hannon le: thank you, Melda: beloved, Naneth: mother, Ada: father, nin: my, me. **

**Still don't own anything.**


	4. Of Scrolls And Socks

**Scrolls and Socks**

Three elflings sat in the large quiet library. The elder two had shimmering blond hair and were studiously reading large scrolls. The third, a tiny black-haired girl of about three was busy attempting to reach the second shelf.

"Yarna, stop that. Go finish your book," the boy told her without looking up from his scroll. Yarna crossed her golden eyes at him but obediently sat herself down and continued the book she had been reading. Unlike the other two's scrolls, her book was filled with large letters and colourful drawings of different animals. The older girl stretched and ruffled her sister's hair before rearranging her pale blue dress and continuing her reading.

"Gandir? What this mean?" Yarna asked her brother, pointing at a rune. Grudgingly he examined the word.

"Cat," he said shortly and returned to his scroll.

The three read in silence for a while, the older two gradually working their way down their scrolls whilst Yarna, once having finished the story was content to stare at the pictures. That was until a tall blond elf walked in.

"Uncle!" three voices cried and they ran to greet him.

"Hello children, how are you all?" Glorfindel asked them, returning their hugs.

"Good!" Yarna answered for them all. As usual the older two began to question the Balrog slayer.

"What news from Imladris?"

"How is Ada?"

"Is he coming home?"

"Is he bringing Saruman?"

"Are you leaving again?"

"Can we come with you?"

"Are you staying?"

"Do you have pomegranates?" they clamoured, not even giving him an opportunity to reply.

"Slow down little ones, your father is alright and he is coming home soon," Glorfindel began.

"I cannot wait to see him!" Alsea squealed.

"Why was he gone?" Gandir asked suddenly. Glorfindel stopped, unsure of how much the children's' parents wanted them to know.

"Ring," a little voice said quietly. It was always easy to forget Yarna was there until the small child made a disturbingly accurate pronouncement.

"Where did you hear that?" the elf lord asked sharply but she had already decided that her sock was more interesting and proceeded to remove it then throw the tiny white thing at her uncle. Glorfindel sighed as the other two took up the inquisition again.

Glorfindel shut the library door behind him. As much as he loved his sister's children, the older two were hard work. He browsed the large volumes looking for some light reading. Settling down with a beautifully copied poetry book, the Balrog slayer read in silence for a while.

Unbeknownst to Glorfindel, Yarna was also on the library. Several aisles away from the elf lord the little girl was staring up at the topmost shelf. Piles of scrolls lined the bookcase and it was one of these, a blue silk wrapped one at the very top, that Yarna was avidly gazing at. Obviously she was far too small to reach the third shelf let alone the seventh and top. Placing one foot carefully on the bottom shelf, Yarna decided to have a go at mountaineering. Reaching up she took hold of the third shelf and pulled herself up, carefully minding the precious scrolls along the way. It didn't take her long before she was standing on the fifth shelf and stretched out her arm to grab the scroll. The blue package was just out of her reach so she leaned further over, ignoring the tilt of the freestanding bookcase. Her fingers closed around her prize and Yarna grinned at her success for a brief moment before the entire thing collapsed and she was on the floor amongst pile of scrolls. Glorfindel came running and stood, aghast at the sight presented to him.

"Yarna! What have you done?" he yelled at her. The elfling grinned and held up the blue scroll.

"Got it!" she smiled, brandishing her quarry.

"How did you...? Oh Yarna, what are we going to do with you?" Glorfindel asked, exasperated. He began to collect the scrolls and put the bookcase back together.

"What happened?" Isowen rushed in. On seeing her daughter beneath the pile of parchment she began laughing.

"Wanted this one Naneth!" Yarna exclaimed, her golden eyes innocently wide.

"Of course you did little one, you could have just asked though," her mother told her. Yarna shrugged and offered the scroll to her.

"Read please," she asked. Glorfindel sighed and looked pleadingly at his sister.

"You are not just going to leave me with this mess?" She laughed.

"Well, you could read this one whatever it is she has chosen," she suggested. The Balrog slayer shuddered and continued to tidy up the scrolls.

"No thank you, I will save that honour for you," he said hastily.

"Come on trouble," Isowen called and Yarna followed her over to a chair.

"Yarna, where are you socks, _Iell nin_?" The little elfling looked around and spied the tiny white things on the floor where she had thrown them at her uncle earlier on.

"There!" she told her without bothering to go and pick them up. Isowen frowned but began to read. She stopped suddenly when she realised exactly what her daughter had begged her to read.

"Yarna, this is an essay on ring lore! Why on earth did you choose this?" she asked. Yarna smiled and tapped her nose in a very funny imitation of her father. Isowen sighed but continued to read.

"There, all finished. Did you understand any of that?" Isowen asked tiredly. Yarna nodded gravely.

"Ada gone find ring," she said quietly. Isowen gasped but before she could ask anything Yarna had wandered off, calling for her siblings.

"Precocious child that one," Glorfindel commented from behind the bookcase he was still tidying.

"Yes," his sister murmured, staring after her youngest daughter in wonder. "That she is."

**Author's note: Thanks to zfrida1 for favouriting. I don't own anything. Ice blue, pomegranate, cat and socks: challenge complete. Having not read Jane Eyre I thought Harriate Slate's answer to this challenge really good. **

**P.S. Reviews are nice.**


	5. Of Meat And Men

**Of Meat And Men**

Yarna wandered aimlessly amongst the trees that formed the perimeter of the Havens. All was quiet, the faint rustling of leaves and birdsong were the only sounds. From there even an elf couldn't hear the cries of the gulls. The trees watched silently as the young elfling flittered from one to the next, murmuring greetings and occasionally pausing to climb one before leaping onto the next.

It was in an old oak tree that she stopped her journey through the woods. Climbing up to the highest branch Yarna smiled at the little nest.

"_Suilaid_ little ones," she said softly to the four blackbird chicks squawking at her from the bed of twigs.

"There now, here comes your _Ada_." She nodded a greeting to the male bird that had just arrived with a worm in his beak. The chicks garbled in appreciation as their father fed them. Yarna watched the little scene for a moment before reaching into the pouch at her waist.

"Will this help little _aew_?" she asked and offered the blackbirds a piece of Lembas. The chicks ate the bread within moments and then cried for more. The elfling obliged.

Suddenly the sound of footsteps broke the quiet of the forest. Yarna froze against the tree, asking the great oak to conceal her. Seemingly in the wind the branches moved to hide the little elf and the blackbird nest. After a while Yarna could make out two sets of feet walking through the undergrowth. No elf would make that much noise and the wind carried the smell of sweat and pipe smoke.

"Humans!" Yarna thought excitedly. She had never met a human before; there weren't any in the Havens. After the excitement though, came fear. One little elfling, with nothing more than a small knife, couldn't defend herself against two grown Men. She waited quietly, hoping to catch a glimpse of them as they passed.

Soon the sound of voices drifted up to her.

"We should head back Golian," one of the Men said to his companion. "We have more than enough already."

"No, there is better game here. We should continue and go back tomorrow," the other replied. Yarna struggled to understand them; her Westron wasn't quite as good as it could have been.

"This is Elven country, who knows what we might find," the first Man whispered. Golian laughed.

"Sure, we will find a little elf up a tree!" Both Men laughed even if one was a bit strained. The blackbird chose that moment to move, the branch swaying to reveal Yarna's foot for a split second.

"There!" Golian cried, pointing at where he had glimpsed a piece of flesh. An arrow struck the oak tree above Yarna's head, causing it to move its branches and drop the little elfling. She landed on the ground face to face with two very surprised humans.

Both Men had drawn bows and one had his trained on Yarna. They gawped open-mouthed at the sight before them. A little girl of about four wearing brown leggings, a green tunic and no shoes, her pitch black hair that reached her waist tucked behind her pointed ears, was staring at them with bright golden eyes.

Yarna didn't wait for them to react though, her superior reflexes snapped into action. She rolled behind the nearest tree and reached for a branch.

"Hey!" one of the Men yelled, breaking out of his surprised trance. They both leapt after the little elfling.

"Come here!" Golian shouted at the figure crouched against a trunk.

"Shh, you'll frighten her. Greetings little one, we mean you no harm," the other Man called up softly. He motioned for Golian to lower his bow and they both placed their weapons on the ground. Yarna looked at them suspiciously, taking in their worn clothes and muddy boots. They were tall, almost as tall as Elves, both had brown hair and dark eyes. Golian was shorter and broader at the shoulder, a thin beard growing on his face. The other was taller, leaner and looked kinder although she still didn't come down.

"Come on, we won't hurt you," the Man said again. Yarna realised that they would stay there all day until she came down and she needed to be home by nightfall. Sighing she let herself drop to the ground.

"Harorn! She's an elf!" Golian whispered to his friend. Yarna realised that they didn't know she could hear them.

"Who are you little one?" Harorn asked her, bending down so that they were the same height. Yarna wanted to tell him not to call her little one since she was almost ten times older than them.

"Colmith," she said quietly, giving the first name that came into her head. Somehow gold-grey sounded right and Yarna had been told not to give her true name away to strangers.

"Well Colmith, I am Harorn and this is my friend Golian," the Man said gently.

"_Well I know that, you have been shouting to each other for ages_," she thought but merely looked up at the two Men.

"What are we going to do with her?" Golian asked worriedly.

"_Let me go_?" Yarna thought hopefully.

"Where are you from Colmith?" Harorn asked her. She frowned, not knowing what to say.

"_I cannot tell them where the Havens are_," She sighed and pointed at the surrounding trees.

"From Arda," Yarna replied. The Men frowned and looked at each other.

"I've never hear of Arda, is it a large town?" Harorn asked. She stifled a laugh.

"Very big," the elfling answered.

"_Oh this is fun!_" she thought gleefully.

"And where exactly is Arda?" Golian looked around as if expecting to see a great city pop out of the woods.

"Everywhere," Yarna told him solemnly. They were both surprised at that and shared a worried glance.

"We can't just leave her here," Harorn said.

"Why not? She was here to begin with. Let us say good bye to her and be on our way," Golian suggested. Yarna nodded hopefully at the suggestion.

"We can't leave a little girl all alone in the woods!" the Man exclaimed.

"_Where else would the find an elf?" _she said to herself. Suddenly, she had an idea. By frightening away these two humans she could get home without difficulty and prevent them ever straying too near to the Havens again.

"I am no child of Men, I am a daughter of the Firstborn," Yarna said grandly in her best imitation of her uncle. A silent request to the surrounding trees and her statement was punctuated by a loud rustling and the trunks themselves even creaked.

"_Over dramatic trees_," she noted, feeling their mirth at the Men's expressions. An eerie murmuring accompanied the shadows that lengthened under the eaves, adding to the effect.

"I told you this land belonged to the Elves, let us go and hunt elsewhere!" Harorn grabbed his bow and hurried back up the path, leaving a bundle behind. Golian followed quickly.

Yarna bent down to examine the bundle on the ground. She opened the cloth and gasped. Inside was the carcass of a young doe, strung up by the legs with an arrow wound in her head. Having never eaten meat, nor having seen a dead animal before the little girl was horrified. She knelt down and cried for the deer.

"Why would someone do this?" she asked out loud.

"To feed their children," a kind voice said. Yarna jumped and turned to see her mother watching from a few paces away. Isowen came closer and knelt beside her daughter.

"Men have to rely on meat as well as grain to feed themselves, it is as natural as the bird eating a worm," she said gently. Yarna frowned.

"But we do not," she pointed out. Her mother sighed.

"We are not the same as Men _Iell nin_," she explained. Yarna nodded and turned back to the deer carcass.

"We should give this back to them if they need food so badly," the elfling said. Isowen smiled.

"Let us do that," she agreed.

Later a poor woman from a small village found a cloth wrapped deer carcass on her door step. It was a wonder how it got there since the two hunters had returned with nothing but wild stories of little Elves and talking trees. The woman didn't dwell on the mystery of her benefactor but was simply grateful that her children had more than watered-down gruel to eat.

Yarna and Isowen returned to the house and the little elfling lost no time in telling her father and older siblings about her encounter with Men. Gandir and Alsea pretended to be bored by the story but Mithrandir laughed at his daughter's tale.

"Well Yarna, I would never have thought you the one to be off having adventures. You will have to go and tell Glorfindel how you scared away two great human warriors. Daughter of the Firstborn, terrifying to behold." Mithrandir laughed.

"The trees helped too Ada, they were very good at being scary," Yarna said reminded him.

"Oh yes, and the trees too," he corrected himself. "Mustn't forget the trees," he muttered to Isowen. She smiled and shook her head.

"Ada, can you tell us about Men? Please!" Yarna asked him. Alsea and Gandir nodded and soon Mithrandir found himself telling them a very long, dramatic and not wholly true story about an encounter with the King's guard.

… …

"Melda?" Isowen asked from the doorway of the study. Mithrandir looked up from his desk.

"There is going to be a war soon," she said quietly. He nodded.

"I'm afraid so. Gil-Galad is marshalling his troops, the Havens will soon be called upon as well."

"We will both have to go." Isowen perched on the desk. Her husband sighed.

"Maybe you could stay with the children..." he left it hanging.

"No, I was taught to fight therefore I shall. I will not stand by like I did in Gondolin…" She broke off at the memory. "Círdan is to mind all of the children from the Havens." Isowen shook her head.

"What, all four of them?" he joked half-heartedly.

"It is too late to send them to Imladris," Isowen said. He nodded.

"And too dangerous, a few of the others are staying as well although not many. Most of the healers are coming too, even if they will not fight."

"The summons shall come soon enough, be thankful Gandir is too young or he might be called upon to fight as well." Isowen shuddered at the thought of her son going into battle.

"Enough bad thoughts for tonight, go to sleep. I shall be finished in a moment." She nodded and kissed him before leaving the study. Mithrandir sighed and turned back to the grim report his brother-in-law had sent him.

**Author's note: Suilaid: Greetings, Aew: bird, Melda: beloved, Colmith: Gold-grey, Iell nin: my daughter, Arda: Earth, Ada: father. **

**I made Elves vegetarians simply because it made sense. They might have to make exceptions later but for now they have sensibilities. Reviews, as always, are nice.**


	6. The Emptying OF The Havens

**The Emptying Of The Havens**

Glorfindel pushed his horse hard to reach the small settlement on the edge if the sea. It wasn't a long ride from Imladris to the Grey Havens but he had little time.

Cresting the hill that overlooked the bay his heart wrenched at the familiar cry of the gulls.

"Not yet," he reminded himself sadly and plunged his steed down towards the town.

The streets were empty as they usually were the few elves who could bear to live so close to the sea were nowhere to be seen. Glorfindel dismounted in the small enclosed courtyard outside his sister's house. Isowen leaned out of a first floor window.

"_Suilaid gwanur!_" she called. The blond elf looked up at the raven haired _elleth_.

"The call has come little sister!" he cried sadly. Isowen gasped, her smile vanishing. She shut the window before hurrying down to the courtyard.

"I will call the others," she said, opening the door to let him in. The Balrog-slayer nodded and she ran out, calling to the other inhabitants of the town.

"It is sooner than we thought," a voice said from the doorway. Mithrandir stood looking gravely at his brother-in-law. The elf nodded solemnly.

"Círdan will call a meeting now," the wizard said and led the way towards the Shipwright's home. Glorfindel bade his horse go to the stables, Asfaloth had been there often enough to know where they were.

A small group of elves gathered in the main square. They spoke quietly amongst themselves, waiting. Mithrandir and Glorfindel hurried to take their places as Círdan; the oldest elf in Middle-Earth stepped forward.

"Friends, our king Gil-Galad has called us to fight against Sauron for the freedom of Middle-Earth. Those who wish to help, take up arms to march east at dawn. Those versed in the healing arts are needed also. This is his call to us and our allies' plea for help," the ancient bearded elf said to the crowd. Glorfindel stood up at that moment.

"I leave tomorrow for Mordor. Those who can, come with me. At first light we leave." He noticed three elflings standing at the back, unseen by the rest of the elves. His nephew and nieces stared at him in a mixture of confusion and sadness.

"_They know we have to leave although they do not know why_," he thought.

"Come _gwanur nin_, you must be hungry," Isowen said and led him back towards her house. Upon seeing her children standing in the street she sighed. Alsea ran up to her.

"Are you leaving _Naneth_?" she asked her bright blue eyes wide and fearful. Her mother held her tight.

"Yes little one, your _Ada_ and I are leaving tomorrow," she murmured sadly.

"Why?" the elfling asked.

"I will explain it later," Isowen told her.

Mithrandir lifted his younger daughter up and took his son's hand. Together the family made their way home quietly.

"_Elbereth_, do not let them loose a parent," Glorfindel prayed silently as he followed them. "That would be too cruel."

It was dark outside; Isowen had put the children to bed. It had been hard; they hadn't wanted their parents to leave them. Eventually she had managed to get Alsea to fall asleep and Yarna to promise to stay in bed. Gandir had been harder, he had demanded at first to have a full explanation of the events, which had been given by his progressively tired and sad father. Then the little elf had asks to come with them, protesting that he wasn't a baby like the girls and was really quite good with his bow. Eventually Glorfindel had coaxed the boy to bed with the story of how he had fought a Balrog. The unconventional bedtime story had worked and the blond elfling was soon fast asleep.

The three adults were sitting around the fire, each lost in their own thoughts. A sharp knock at the door served to wake them from their silent reveries. Mithrandir rose to answer it.

"Círdan! Come in, what can we do for you?" he asked, showing the old Shipwright into the main room.

"I will not be answering Gil-Galad's call," the ancient elf said quietly. The others nodded; they knew he could not be called upon to fight.

"I am willing, to care for your children, Isowen, Mithrandir, in your absence." No sooner had he said that, Isowen crossed the room and, forgetting propriety, embraced the old elf.

"_Hannon le Círdan, hannon le_," she thanked him.

"Should the worst happen, I will continue caring for them as my own." All three of them were astonished by the Shipwright's offer.

"May the _Valar_ forbid it," Glorfindel added.

"Nevertheless, in war the gods can forsake us," he murmured. "For the others a parent at least is staying."

"I cannot thank you enough," Mithrandir said, placing a hand on the old elf's shoulder.

"I hope it shall not come to that. I shall see you off tomorrow." With many more heartfelt thanks the Shipwright left. Isowen leant into her husband's arms.

"I am glad, he will keep them safe, even if we fail," she said.

"Don't think like that!" the grey wizard objected but she kept going.

"_Melda_, if we do and the Shadow spreads, I know that he will keep them safe. If all else fails he will take them on a ship and they will not fall to the Shadow. That is what reassures me, whatever happens, our children will be safe." Mithrandir gently kissed her.

"Yes, you're right. They will be safe," he agreed softly. Glorfindel rose silently and left them, making his way to his room. He passed the girl's bedroom and peered in silently to check they were asleep.

"Uncle," a small voice whispered in the darkness. The blond elf sighed and stepped into the room. Yarna was sitting upright in her bed, her golden eyes shining in the dark. He walked over to her, careful not to wake Alsea who was sleeping in the other bed.

"Yes little one?" he asked quietly.

"Are you going too?" the elfling snuggled up close to him. He sighed.

"Yes little one," he said again. Yarna sniffed back a tear.

"Are you coming back?" she asked softly. Glorfindel hesitated, not wanting to lie to his niece.

"I do not know _tithen pen_," he said truthfully. Yarna sighed.

"Is _Naneth_ coming back?" she whispered.

"I hope so Yarna." The blond elf cradled the elfling in his arms.

"I hope so too, I hope _Naneth_ and _Ada_ and you all come back. I hope you never have to go away again. I hope Elrond comes back, and Gil-Galad, and Galdur, and..." Whoever else the little girl wished to return safely, he never knew as she fell asleep in his arms. Gently Glorfindel tucked her in and stood up to leave.

"I hope so too, little one," he murmured.

… …

"Isowen," Glorfindel said as she passed him on the landing.

"If you mean to dissuade me from going, save your breath. I can fight, I have fought. Maybe even more than you have." She turned, glaring at him fiercely in a way only she and their mother could manage.

"Isowen, please listen. Stay here, stay with the children. There is no shame in it. Please _gwathel nin_," he pleaded. "I thought I had lost you before, I do not mean to lose you in truth."

"No. I ran and hid before and I lost everything. No Glorfindel, it does not only rest with you to protect us. Briefly you thought I was lost, I have fought for centauries without you now I mean to fight for a better world for my children. I am sorry but there is nothing you can say to stop me." She kissed him on the cheek before closing her bedroom door on him. He sighed.

… …

The next morning, as soon as dawn's first light tainted the eastern horizon, the company from the Grey Havens gathered on the hill overlooking their home.

Círdan was there to see them off. Isowen knelt, her arms around all of her children. Tears flowed from their eyes as they said goodbye to their parents.

"I love you all, look after each other. Be good for Círdan. I love you so much," she told them over and over again. Mithrandir stood behind her and as she finally released them he kissed his children and they hugged him one last time.

"Come Isowen, we must leave," he said quietly. With one last kiss she stood and stepped away from her children.

"Come back _Naneth_! Promise you will come back!" Gandir cried. Tears began to fall down her face.

"I promise _tithen pen_," she lied. Glorfindel lead his sister away and after one last farewell Mithrandir followed. The elven company rode swiftly over the hill towards the east, and war.

… …

… …

"Now children, I promised your parents that I would care for you and I shall," Círdan said as he watched the three miserable elflings push their breakfast around their plates. He needed something to keep their minds off their parents. They sat at the kitchen table in Isowen and Mithrandir's house the morning after the company had left. He had thought it would help, for them to stay in their own home but that night there had been a ferocious thunderstorm that had rolled in off the sea.

Círdan had been sitting in a large armchair in front of the fire in the living room, reading a large book and listening to the crash of thunder. A small snuffling sound coming from the stairs made him look up suddenly. Alsea stood halfway down the stairs, her blond hair shining in the firelight. She looked imploringly at him with light blue eyes.

"What it is _tithen pen_?" the Shipwright asked her.

"Storm," the elfling said quietly, jumping suddenly as thunder wracked throughout the house. Círdan sighed and put his book down.

"Come here little one." He held out his arms to the little girl who crossed the room and wormed her way into his lap.

"There is nothing to fear from a storm Alsea, you are inside and it cannot hurt you," he comforted her softly. The elfling rested her head in his long beard and promptly fell asleep. Círdan smiled wryly and settled down to wait out the night since he could see no way of moving the child without waking her.

Another sound reached his ears, the noise of a small foot creeping down the stairs. He turned his head to see Gandir standing forlornly where his sister had been.

"Are you afraid of the storm too Gandir?" Círdan asked softly. The young boy shook his head.

"No, I um, thought that Alsea would be. She gets scared of things," he lied, attempting to appear brave. The Shipwright smiled.

"Well, I think you should come here and wait for her to wake up, just in case she gets frightened again," he suggested. The boy nodded and climbed up next to his sister. A crash of thunder made him cower into Círdan's beard and the old elf once again acknowledged its usefulness.

"Not scared," Gandir murmured sleepily.

"Of course not _tithen pen_," Círdan said but the elfling had already fallen asleep in the overcrowded armchair.

The two children's' breathing soon had an effect on the ancient elf. Círdan found himself drifting into the dreamlike state of elven sleep. His dreams were interrupted by a small hand tugging at his sleeve. The Shipwright looked down to see Yarna, her tiny liquid gold eyes staring up at him.

"The storm?" he asked her, thinking of the two other elflings asleep on his lap.

"Storm gone now," the small child said quietly. Círdan frowned, if the storm had passed then why was Yarna down here.

"What is the matter then little one?"

"I wanted a hug," the elfling told him simply, worming her way in between her siblings. Círdan's lap was now very full of small children.

"Oh, I see. Well good night Yarna," he whispered.

"Night Círdan," she mumbled, a small hand clutching onto his beard.

They had woken up that morning still sitting in the armchair and Círdan was grateful that he had chosen to sit in the largest one. He sent the children off to dress and had begun to prepare their breakfast. Despite the events of the previous night all three children had woken up melancholy and quiet. Now they were sitting at the table, barely touching the porridge he had cooked.

"Today we will begin lessons," he said. Gandir looked up miserably.

"Why?" he asked. Círdan sighed.

"Do you not want to be able to show your parents how much you have learned whilst they were away?" They all looked at bit more cheerful at the prospect of impressing their parents.

"Now, Gandir, you shall work on your archery. There are targets in the main garden." Gandir grinned and rushed to his room to fetch his bow.

"Alsea, you can practise drawing, go and get your easel." The blond girl ran off upstairs. Yarna turned to look at the Shipwright.

"And I?" she asked. Círdan smiled.

"You little one, shall help me with something important," he said with a mysterious wink. The elfling frowned but followed him out and the four of them made their way towards the harbour.

Gandir contentedly set about shooting the targets set into a wall. Alsea watched him from her bench whilst doodling on her sketch pad. Círdan led Yarna down to a large enclave by the water's edge. White timber lay in piles around the workspace, drawings and tools scattered on several tables.

"What is this?" the little elf asked, staring curiously at the half formed machine in the centre.

"It will be a ship, once I am done," Círdan told her. Yarna's eyes widened.

"Why are you showing me an unmade ship?" She frowned and poked the ship's ribs; each plank was larger than she was.

"It will be the last ship to leave," the ancient elf said solemnly. Yarna turned to stare at him in amazement.

"You are building it now?" she asked, worried. Círdain smiled.

"It will not sail for a long time yet," he said. Reassured the elfling continued her examination of the half built ship.

"What do I have to help you with?" A small head peered out from between the beams. It would not be a large ship; it would only be able to carry a couple of people comfortably.

"All of my mariners have gone to war; I need some help and I think that you should have a hand in building this one. Besides, you live by the sea; it makes sense for you to know the ways of ships." Yarna smiled and picked up the nearest tool.

"What do I do?" she asked eagerly. Círdan chuckled.

"First, you put that saw down."

… …

… …

Things continued in a similar fashion for several weeks. Gandir and Alsea would practise or read in the main harbour whilst Yarna helped Círdan build the grey boat.

As much as he tried though, no amount of activity could keep the nightmares away. Every night at least one child would awake, crying out for their parents to save them from the shadow. Círdan would sit beside them and lull them back to sleep only for them all to be woken by another one's screams.

"_Ada!_" Alsea sat bolt upright, her small hands reaching out for the familiar face. Círdan rushed in from the chair he had stationed halfway between the girl's and Gandir's rooms.

"Hush _tithen pen_, it is alright," he murmured comforting Sindarian to the little girl who quickly fell asleep again. It was always the case with the older girl, she would wake up suddenly them drift off again as soon as a comforting hand was found. Unfortunately her sister was a light sleeper and Alsea's shout roused the dark haired elfling. Yarna screamed out and clutched at her blanket. Círdan sighed and moved to comfort the youngster.

"Shh, Yarna. You are safe," he told her. Large gold eyes stared at him, rimmed with tears.

"The Shadow has fallen, the stars shine but the line of Kings is broken, no gold returns this time," the elfling said suddenly. Círdan frowned, she wasn't making any sense.

"Yarna? Go back to sleep child, nothing will hurt you here," he tried to calm her down.

"The Shadow has fallen Círdan, I can feel it," she said again quietly. "But we have not won." With that she rolled over and went back to sleep. Círdan sighed, if it were possible that Yarna could feel the result of the battle then the outcome looked good, she seemed to think the enemy was gone. The Shipwright tucked her in and headed out of the room to check in Gandir before going to sleep himself.

He found the little boy curled up underneath his covers, shaking violently.

"Gandir, it is alright, I am here," he repeated the line every night. The boy sat up, his ice blue eyes red from crying.

"Something has happened," he squeaked. Círdan wondered why the children always knew things they couldn't possibly know.

"Go to sleep _tithen pen_, it will be alright," he said. Gandir nodded and snuggled down again.

"Círdan?" a little voice called to him and he stopped at the door.

"Yes Gandir?"

"The stars have come back," the voice mumbled. Círdan frowned; it was true a dark shadow had veiled the stars recently. Looking out of the landing window he saw that the stars were indeed shining brightly once more.

**Tithen pen: little one, gwadur nin: my brother, suilaid: greetings, hannon le: thank you.**

**Don't own it, don't sue me and don't forget to review on your way out.**


	7. Letters For The Front

**Letters For The Front**

Círdan handed the three elflings a sheet of paper each and a quill.

"Here children, there is a messenger leaving for Imladris, he has agreed to take some letters with him. You may write to you parents if you wish, they will be glad of it." Eagerly they took the offered objects and seated themselves at the table.

"Be sure to write in your best calligraphy, Gandir you can show them how good you are now." A chorus of happy little noises followed by the scratching of quills answered him. Círdan took out some ship diagrams and set about rechecking the calculations.

Gandir finished first, showing the Shipwright his letter. The handwriting was neat despite the crossed-out words and scribbles.

_Dear Naneth and Ada, _it read.

_I cannot wait to see you when you come home. Círdan has taught me calygrafy and I am now very good. Yarna says that the shadow has passed but she is just a baby and does not know anything. I know that you and uncle Glor are very brave to fight the shadow and next time I am going to come too and shoot my bow. Alsea is learning the bow too but she is not as good as me. Will you have lots of stories to tell us like uncle Glor does? I want to grow up and fight a balrog like him. Yarna keeps crying but she will not say why. I hope you come home soon, I want to show you my bow._

_Love Gandir_

Círdan smiled down at the boy.

"I am sure your parents will be very pleased _tithen pen_. Girls, have you finished?" Yarna and Alsea nodded, handing him their letters.

"Let us go and play tag," Alsea said, poking her sister before the elfling had even heard. They ran out, Yarna squealing for the older two to wait, the sounds of laughter when she managed to catch one of them rebounding back. Other voices joined them as Bruiwen and Aearion, two other children from the Havens, ran out to play. Círdan unfolded Alsea's letter. It was by far the neatest.

_Dear Ada and Naneth,_

_I hope you are alright. Yarna says that you are not but since you will always win and you promised to come back I am sure that you are. Please hurry up and come back, Gandir is being very bossy and Círdan does not seem to notice. I drew a picture of us which I want to show you. Bruiwen's naneth sent her a letter, can you send me one please. When are you coming back?_

_Alsea_

The simple question they had both asked, when will their parents come home moved Círdan to tears. He knew that neither of them might return but the elflings' confidence was endearing. Lastly he looked at Yarna's. Scrawled, babyish letters reminded him it was time to concentrate on her writing skills instead of her building the boat.

_Naneth_

_Maybe uncle Glor can send this to you becos he went to wer you are now. I had a dream and you wer on a beach with lots of other people and then a big thought took you into a house. It was a nice house Naneth so you will be alrite and ther wer lots of people too so you are not alone. Maybe like uncle Glor you can come back but Ada says that no-one comes back except uncle Glor. That's not true Naneth becos Luthien came back, in the song she did becos they let her out of the house. Maybe they will let you out too and you can come back home. I would like that very much Naneth if you could come home. I am helping Círdan build a boat so if they do not let you come home I can come and visit you when I can sail it. I promise I will try very hard to learn how to sail it and come to visit you Naneth._

_I love you._

_Yarna_

Círdan looked at the letter is shock. There was no way that she could know the outcome of the battle, nor her mother's fate. She had said it was a dream, was it possible the gift of foresight had been given to her?

"If it has then she is not the one," he murmured to himself, looking out of the window at the five children playing in the road. Bruiwen turned and stared at him full on. She was a disturbingly silent child, despite her name meaning noise. Círdan stepped out of the house, towards where the children were.

"Yarna!" he called. The black-haired elfling extracted herself from under her sister.

"Yes Círdan?" she asked, running up to him.

"Come here _tithen pen_," he told her, going back to the house. "Tell me what was in your dream." Yarna looked down at her feet. In a tiny voice she answered.

"I saw a lady on a ship with me. I was sailing us across the sea and she was sitting on the prow. I seemed bigger, grown up. She was strange, her hair was sort of grey, like the ship but she was not old. She was talking to me but she said I must never tell anyone what she said. I cannot remember now but if I did I could not tell you, ever. Then we saw the beach and she said I could tell everyone what happened next. I saw a lot of people getting off boats that were not there before. They were ghost boats because they were not really there. On the beach was _Naneth_ and lots of other people. Then the lady said: "This is for the little child who is watching, one last glimpse of her mother. Yarna, _tithen pen_, I am sorry, we will always be so sorry for you." Then she said to me, I think it was the me that was standing there: "This has been a long time in the coming," and then all of the people and the boats disappeared and there was this _ellon_ standing there. Then I woke up." Círdan stared at the little girl in wonder. She looked up at him impatiently.

"Can I go and play now please?" she asked. Distracted, he waved her off. Her story was worrying. It sounded like a glimpse of the future but one that had been quite deliberately thought out. Círdan wanted to know who the grey-haired lady was on the ship. A thousand questions popped into his head and took up residence there.

… …

Bruiwen grinned at her friend as they reached the top of the tree. Yarna looked around at the valley.

"Gandir said I was too little to climb this tree," the dark-haired elfling said happily. Bruiwen nodded, pushing her light brown tresses out of her eyes. Yarna went on, telling her playmate everything her brother had said about the tree.

"Gandir is very clever you know but he does not know I can do almost as much as he can," she ended her monologue and they stared out at the sea.

"Uncle Glor wants to sail," Yarna said after a while. Bruiwen turned around suddenly.

"Now?" she asked, her face creased with worry. The younger elfling looked at her in surprise.

"No, maybe, I do not know. I do not want him to go now _Naneth _has gone." Yarna trailed off, her gaze wondering over the waves.

"He will not go yet," Bruiwen told her. Yarna nodded, unquestionably accepting her word.

"Círdan was worried by my dream. He read my letter to _Naneth_." Bruiwen frowned.

"He did not need to know about that," she said crossly.

"But you said that I could tell people," Yarna protested.

"People yes, but not Círdan." Yarna looked at her in confusion. Bruiwen sighed. "Never mind, ask me before telling anyone else alright?" The younger elf nodded.

"I wrote it in my letter to _Naneth_, is that alright?" she asked quietly. Bruiwen looked at her, her bright brown eyes softening. She reached out and pulled Yarna into a small hug.

"Yes _mellon nin_, that is alright." The two little girls sat there, atop the tree for a while before Círdan called them in for supper. As they passed him, arm in arm, Bruiwen glanced up at him. There was something odd about her small, too bright smile.

… … … … … … … … … … …

…

…

…

…

**Bruiwen: noise-maid, Aearion: sea-son.**

**I only own the details for now (as soon as I start quoting books I won't) and the OCs of which there are a few too many. Sorry, I'll cut back soon. Yarna doesn't have the gift of foresight; she just has odd friends and a predictable future, a very predictable future apparently.**


	8. Coming Home

**Coming Home**

Gandalf and Saruman reigned in their horses in front of Círdan's house. The small white stone building stood somewhat apart from the others. A child's laughter rang out and they turned to see two blond children running up from the harbour. They stopped suddenly upon seeing him.

"_Ada_!" Gandir cried and rushed up to his father. Gandalf looked down at the little golden head as if it were transparent.

"_Ada_! You came back!" Alsea joined the hug. Still the grey wizard said nothing.

"_Ada_? Where is _Naneth_?" his son asked quietly. That word broke the Maia out of his uncomprehending state. He stared down at the two upturned faces, tears flowing down into his long beard. Without a word he knelt down and pulled his children into his arms, shaking with grief.

"_Ada_, what is wrong?" Alsea was frightened by her father's tears.

"_Naneth_, is... is not coming home," he sobbed. The enormity of what he had just said hit the youngsters and they too began to cry.

Forgotten, Saruman made his way down to the harbour to tell Círdan. He found the old elf showing Yarna how to tie a rather complicated knot. They looked up as he approached.

"Curunír! What news?" the Shipwright asked at once. Saruman sighed and sat down on the bench next to his friend's daughter.

"Sauron is defeated," he said gravely. Yarna turned to Círdan.

"I told you." The elfling beamed. Smiling the ancient elf patted her head.

"So you did _tithen pen_, extraordinary," he murmured. Looking up at the white wizard the elf frowned. "What is it Curunír?"

"Isowen," Saruman whispered, forgetting that the little girl next to him would be able to hear everything. Círdan felt an inward wrench at the news.

"_Naneth_ is on the beach," she said cheerfully. Saruman looked startled.

"No child, your mother is not on the beach. Yarna, she is dead. I am sorry but she is never coming back," Círdan told her gently. Her happy bubble burst and she began to cry.

"Not ever?" Yarna asked through her tears. Círdan shook his head sadly. He scooped her up onto his lap, patting her gently.

"Where is Olórin?" he asked quietly, rocking the little girl back and forth. Saruman sighed.

"Up by the house, with the other two," he said. Círdan nodded and gently stood, picking Yarna up.

"Círdan? Why _Naneth_ not coming home?" a tiny voice asked. The shipwright turned Yarna around so that she was facing him.

"Your _Naneth_ has gone to Valinor _tithen pen_," he told her sadly. Yarna burst once more into noisy sobs.

"But she promised she would come back!" the elfling cried. Círdan continued to murmur soothing Sindarin to her whilst they walked back up to Isowen's house. Saruman had seen Gandalf's grief when his wife fell and had offered to accompany his friend home, just to make sure the grey wizard was alright.

Seeing him slumped by a wall, his two eldest children next to him, the very opposite of alright, Saruman sighed again. Their task in Middle-Earth was not complete yet but he doubted if Gandalf would be able to remain.

"_Ada_!" Círdan let Yarna down and she ran straight to her family. Gandir held out an arm for her, Alsea didn't even notice from her spot buried in Gandalf's chest. Their father simply stared at her, not moving an inch.

"_Ada_?" Yarna asked, frightened by the empty look on his face.

"Your eyes," Gandalf murmured his voice distant. Suddenly he let out a sob and turned away from his youngest daughter. Alsea looked up and glared at her sister.

"Go away," she growled. Startled, Yarna took a step back slowly.

"_Ada_?" she asked again but got no reply. Tearfully she turned and pelted past a shocked Saruman back towards the shore. Círdan looked after her in surprise before hurrying after her. The white wizard was left standing alone, not knowing quite what to do. Saruman decided to check on their horses, he didn't want to outstay his welcome, especially if Gandalf was going to act like that.

… …

… …

Yarna hugged her knees as she sat in the half-built hull of the grey ship. Tears flowed down her face as her tiny body shuddered with sobs. It was all too much for the little elfling; she didn't really understand that her mother was gone. She just wanted to stay there, safe inside the wooden bowls of the ship, forever.

"Yarna?" Círdan's gentle voice came from the edge of the construction. The old elf sighed before climbing up to sit beside the little girl. Neither spoke for a while for neither knew quite what to say. Finally Yarna broke the silence.

"When we finish the boat, can I go and be with _Naneth_?" she asked hopefully. Círdan remembered the prophecy he had seen on the night before Yarna was born. He had only told Isowen part of it, keeping the passage detailing Yarna's passing into the West a secret.

"Not yet _tithen pen_, one day you will but not now," he said. Yarna sighed and began to cry again.

"What did I do wrong? Why does _Ada _hate me?" Large questioning eyes looked up at him.

"Nothing Yarna, nothing at all. Come on; let us go back to the house." With that the Shipwright manoeuvred himself out the ship and held out his hand to the little elf. Yarna followed and together they made their way back towards Círdan's house.

The old elf put her to bed quickly in a spare room before going in search of Saruman. He found the white wizard sitting in the main square, looking out at the waves. A few more elves had returned to their homes although there were considerably less than before. Taking the seat next to Saruman, Círdan turned to the Istar.

"Curunír, I have a favour to ask of you," he started, cautiously.

"And what would that be, Círdan?" Saruman asked in his polished voice.

"I would have you take Yarna to Imladris; I think it would be best if she stayed with Lord Elrond for a while. We need to give Olórin time," the elf said. Saruman nodded slowly.

"I think that would be best. I am leaving tomorrow for Imladris anyway." The Istar stood up. Círdain frowned; he didn't want Yarna to have to leave her family without a goodbye. "I would be happy to take her, anything to help Olórin. I will go and tell him, maybe I can make him see her," Saruman answered the elf's unvoiced concern. Círdan smiled gratefully as the wizard left the square.

Galdor came up to him, a grave expression on his fair face.

"Many have not returned," the younger elf said. The Shipwright nodded sadly.

"We lost Gil-Galad," Galdor continued. Círdan looked up in surprise. "And the King of Greenwood, Oropher."

"Then we have paid a heavy price for this victory," the bearded elf said solemnly. Galdor nodded sadly and carried on home.

… …

… …

"Gandalf," Saruman intoned from the doorway. Gandalf was sitting at his desk, head in his hands.

"I am taking Yarna to Imladris tomorrow, if you wish it," he continued. His friend still made no sound.

"Gandalf?" the white wizard asked.

"Go, take her with you. I never want to see those eyes again." Gandalf waved a hand to signal that Saruman should leave. Sighing he shut the door and went to find Círdan.

**LOTR-LOTR-LOTR-LOTR-LOTR-LOTR-LOTR**

**Author's note: I've changed the timeline a bit, causing the wizards to arrive before the Last Alliance instead of about a thousand years later. Mainly because otherwise the three children would have been born without their parents meeting. I know this might be odd to accept but grief can do strange things to people and I guess Maia are an emotional people, the elves certainly are since they usually die if bereaved so Gandalf's reaction is actually not as drastic seeing as he's still alive.**


	9. A Story Of Dark Angels

**A Story Of Dark Angels**

… …

Saruman looked at the elfling sitting by the fire. Yarna had barely spoken a word since they had left the Havens that morning. It had been a hurried good-bye, Olórin refused to see her off as did her sister. Only Círdan, her brother and a brown-haired elfling had waved to them, the latter crying out that she was sorry. Yarna shuffled closer to the campfire and he finally saw the object she had been cradling all day. It was a wooden boat, a toy carving. Curious, Saruman sat down beside her.

"What do you have there, Yarna?" he asked gently. Slowly the little girl held out her toy.

"_Lent_," she said, showing him the carving. Saruman smiled.

"I know you better than that Yarna, speak in full sentences," he told her. She looked up at him miserably. Saruman frowned as an unfamiliar feeling swelled up inside him. Like a wounded chick found by the roadside he wanted to look after the small elfling. Oddly anger rose at the thought of Olórin pushing the helpless child away. It wasn't her fault that Isowen had died, or that she was the spitting image of her mother. At a loss of what to do, Saruman patted the girl awkwardly on the back at set about making the blankets into a bed for her.

"Saruman, why does _Ada _not want me?" Yarna asked his suddenly. The question stumped him. He was famed for having one of the most commanding voices in Middle-Earth but he had no idea of how to comfort her.

"If you lose something very precious, would you want a copy of it to remind you it was gone?" he said carefully. Yarna turned the idea over, her little face scrunched up hard.

"I guess not. But what did _Ada _lose that was like me?" He looked down at her sadly as understanding came to her. Quietly, she began to cry.

"I am sorry Yarna," he said, feeling hopelessly inadequate. She stopped her sobs to a small snuffling sound.

"Saruman, can you tell a story please? To stop me feeling sad." Wide golden eyes gazed up at him imploringly. Sitting across the fire from her he smiled. A ready audience was hard to come by in the wild.

"Of course child. Which story would you like?" The elfling thought about it for a moment.

"A new one. Círdan said it is a new age now." Saruman racked his memory for a suitable tale. The woods around them, not completely safe even after the war, held many tales but none were perhaps suited for an upset child before bed. He looked at her closely, as if to determine what she would like. Her long, thin face reminded him of a statue he had once seen in Minas Ithil, a dark angel, a creature of the ancient world that haunted none but a few forgotten temples.

"Have you heard of the dark angels?" he asked her. Yarna shook her head, her child's curiosity sparked. Saruman donned his most eloquent voice and began to tell the tale.

"Long ago, before the Valar left Middle-Earth, there dwelt some of the lesser Ainur who sang also but of less importance. Of these, some took the forms of beautiful elves; indeed they took their form from the song and what they knew the elves would one day look like. As Melkor added discord to the song he tainted the world and these lesser Ainur did not escape his influence. They became dark, no longer singing of the joys of Middle-Earth, but of the world Melkor wanted to create." Yarna had not fallen into the transfixed trance as most of his listeners did. Instead she cautiously raised her hand, asking for permission to speak. Surprised, he nodded.

"Where did they live?" she asked.

"Here, in Middle-Earth."

"In Lindon?"

"No, north of Forodwaith in the endless winter."

"Did the not get cold?"

"No child, they based themselves on the image of the elves."

"Elves get cold. I do. Gandir says that only little elflings get cold."

"Yes child. I shall continue?" Yarna clamped her mouth tightly shut. "Thank you. No-one minded the Dark Angels very much. They were not a threat; they merely spent their time in vast temples they constructed in the snow."

"What were they made of? The temples? Gandir says that you can make houses out of ice. Did they make them out of ice?"

"No child, they were made of stone from the northern mountains. Even Melkor did not pay them much heed for they were of no use to him. So they lived in darkness during the long northern nights until Melkor called to them. Out of the dark cold they came, some hundred or so, and took up their place alongside him against the Valar in the Last Battle. During the battle, Theänna, their queen, saw the light of the Valar and remembered the song as it once was, before Melkor disrupted it. Slowly she began to sing it again but her closest friend, who was loyal to Melkor, took his blade and slit her throat to stop her singing."

"I am glad Bruiwen would not do that to me, no-one would kill their friend like that," Yarna said firmly, her little voice stubbornly accusing.

"Maybe she was a false friend then," Saruman answered. "Once their queen was dead, the Dark Angels scattered. When Melkor was vanquished their life-forces began to ebb until they were naught but shadows."

"Where are they now?"

"They wander Middle-Earth, singing their tainted melodies. Sometimes, in the old woods of the Blue Mountains, a keen ear may hear them."

"An elf?"

"Yes, if you listen closely. You might even catch a glimpse of one, out of the corner of your eye. A few of their temples remain, in the frozen wastes." His story over Saruman leaned back. Yarna frowned.

"If they were Dark Angels, who were the Light Angels?" she asked. The wizard sighed; he had never had such an inquisitive audience.

"That is a story for another time. Go to sleep now child." Obediently Yarna wrapped herself up in her blankets, cradling her boat. Saruman smiled as she twitched her head, trying very hard to catch things in the peripheral vision.

"Good night child," he said softly.

"Good night Saruman."


	10. Imladris

**Imladris**

… …

Elrond looked up from the casualty list he had been writing as a young member of the guard rushed in. The ellon bowed his head respectfully before rushing into his report.

"My Lord, Saruman the White has entered the valley. He has a child with him." Elrond stared at him blankly for a moment.

_What is Saruman thinking, leaving Mithrandir on his own? _He thought. Nodding to the guard he left his desk and went in search of Celebrían. As one of the few blond elves in Imladris, she stood out. He found her reading to the twins by the main bridge. Elrohir was the first to see him coming, shouting out across the courtyard.

"_Ada_! Look _Naneth_!" Celebrían looked up and smiled. They were all in sombre clothes to reflect the huge losses taken on the slopes of Mount Doom. Elrond sat down beside his family.

"Saruman is about to arrive," he said to his wife quietly. Elladan cautiously turned the page and continued to read despite his mother having abandoned her tale.

"I thought he was to stay with Mithrandir." She absently stroked Elrohir's hair to keep him still.

"I do not know why he is here but the scout reported a child with him." Celebrían frowned.

"As far as I know there are no orphans in the Havens, maybe in Lindon but none that Saruman would know," she said.

"No matter who, soon we shall have a possibly orphaned child here." She took the hint and stood up, much to Elladan's discontent. He grabbed the book so as not to lose his page, pulling it onto his own small lap. Celebrían tucked a golden braid behind one ear.

"I shall prepare a room in the nursery for them then," she said and walked off to find the linen mistress. Elrond sighed; he had enough trouble already without Saruman foisting a child onto his household. Thinking of children he wondered how long Valandil, Isildur's youngest son, and his mother would remain. Elrohir suddenly decided that he was bored and ran off, giggling, towards the armoury. Elrond had found it impossible to impose the gravity of a house in mourning upon his eldest son, despite numerous attempts. Elladan sat there, engrossed in the book and showing no signs of moving anytime soon. However, the elf lord had other ideas.

"Elladan, you are going to meet a new playmate. They are arriving soon. Please make them feel welcome." The elfling looked up, his wide grey eyes serious.

"Yes _Ada_," he said.

"Go and find your brother," Elrond told him, taking the book as the boy ran off.

… …

Celebrían looked around the room, satisfied that everything was in order. Just off the main nursery, near to her family's apartments, it had not really been used much as most children lived with their parents. The nursery, however, was unnaturally full. As well as the twins, the baby Valandil also spent his days there as did a dozen elflings. The majority of the children from Lindon had been sent there for safe-keeping, except those from the Havens. The room was small, a half-sized bed stood against one wall, a chest of drawers below the window; but cosy and nicely decorated. An _elleth_ tapped politely on the door.

"Saruman has arrived my Lady," she said.

"Thank you, I will come at once." Celebrían turned and hurried along through the house to greet the Maia. Saruman had gone with Mithrandir to see the recently bereaved wizard home safely. Tears pricked her eyes as she thought of Isowen, her friend, dead at the siege of Barad-dûr, leaving three children motherless.

Saruman rode into the courtyard just as she stepped out of the front door. A cloaked bundle sat in front of him.

"Saruman, what has happened?" Elrond asked as the Maia dismounted. The wizard lifted his passenger onto his hip, pulling back their hood. Celebrían gasped as bright golden eyes stared, bemused, at them all.

"Where is Glorfindel?" Saruman said shortly. The golden-haired Lady strode forward, in an attempt to take the child.

"Why did you bring Yarna here?" she asked. The elfling had no desire to be picked up her though, clinging onto Saruman's shoulder.

"I will explain but Glorfindel must hear me also," the powerful voice said. She nodded, leading the way into the house.

"He is much grieved by the death of his sister," Elrond told him quietly.

_As is Erestor,_ the half-elven thought. He was worried about his two friends; they both seemed so upset by Isowen's death. Imladris needed its chief advisor and seneschal, especially now that Gil-Galad was dead. Elrond tried not to show his own grief at the passing of his King and mentor, reminding himself that he had to be the strong leader his people needed.

They reached Glorfindel's rooms just as Erestor was leaving them.

"Yarna? Saruman what is she doing here?" he asked in surprise.

"Is Glorfindel in there?" the Maia said. He nodded, opening the door.

"Fin? Yarna is here," the advisor called quietly. Glorfindel was sitting morosely by the window. He turned as they entered.

"Yarna?" Scrambling down the little girl ran to her uncle. He drew her up into a hug, burying her head underneath is golden mane.

"Why are you here _tithen pen_?" he asked after a moment. Saruman took a step forward as Erestor discreetly closed the door behind them.

"Mithrandir is too absorbed by his grief to bear to look upon Isowen's likeness. He bade me take her away," Saruman explained. Glorfindel frowned, a flush of anger rising in his high cheeks.

"I cannot believe he would do such a thing. If anything he should want her closer than ever," the balrog-slayer said thickly.

"It is grief Fin, it prevents us from thinking clearly," Erestor told him gently, coming round to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"What of Gandir and Alsea?" Celebrían asked. Saruman turned to her.

"He appeared to have no objection to seeing them. They however, do not have their mother's appearance." She nodded sadly.

"I suppose she had better stay here then, at least until he comes to his senses," Elrond suggested after an awkward silence. Yarna looked up at them all.

"Uncle Glor, when can I go home?" she asked; her voice small and high-pitched. Glorfindel tucked a strand of raven hair behind her ear.

"Not yet _tithen pen_, you can stay here with me for a while first." That seemed to cheer the little girl up.

"Alright," she said happily. He smiled weakly, patting his niece on the head. Celebrían opened the door, meaning to send for one of the little girls to take Yarna to the nursery. To her surprise the twins were standing there, each holding a stuffed toy.

"Elladan, Elrohir. Why are you standing here?" she asked.

"_Ada_ said we were to make a friend in the new arrival," Elladan said innocently. Celebrían turned to her husband.

"Yarna, these are my sons Elladan and Elrohir. I suggest you three go and play." The elflings didn't need to be told twice. She hugged her uncle quickly then they scampered off. Glorfindel sighed, leaning his head on his hands.

"She can stay here until Mithrandir wants her back," Elrond repeated.

"_Hannon le mellon nin,"_ he said, his normally cheerful voice close to breaking. Erestor shot him an odd look. Something passed between them the other three failed to understand or even notice.

"Mithrandir knows I have her, if he comes for her he will expect her to be with me." Saruman's voice had a slightly commanding edge to it, as if he felt strongly about the girl's future. Elrond frowned, wondering why the Maia was interested. Glorfindel caught Erestor's glance.

"You have a point but the nursery is quite full here. I think Yarna should stay for the time being," he said quietly.

"Let us see how she settles in," Saruman suggested, somewhat primly.

... …

… …

Elladan picked up the toy boat lying beside the dark-haired elfling as they sat on the river bank. Strewn around the three of them were numerous stuffed toys and carved figurines.

"This is pretty, Yarna," he said, turning it over curiously.

"So is this," she replied, picking up a beautiful copy of Beleg the archer. Elrohir had amassed a hoard of swordsmen which he began to charge at Elladan's dragon. With a shriek the younger twin scorched his brother's battalion. Not to be deterred Elrohir used a group of archers he had 'borrowed' from Yarna to corner their former owner's one boat fleet.

"Hey Ro, Yarna is at sea. You cannot get to her there!" Elladan told him crossly. She laughed.

"No, I am in the Harlond. The tide is far too low for me to leave. Elrohir can reach me easily," she said. Elrohir grinned, aiming his archers at the wooden boat. Elladan frowned until an idea struck him.

"Yarna, quick! Climb on my dragon's back!" the great blue dragon then swooped down to rescue the ship's crew before it sank. Thwarted, Elrohir glared at the other two.

"That is not fair! Dan you took sides!" he cried. As Yarna dismounted Beleg from Elladan's dragon she moved him over to the other archers.

"That does not matter. Beleg can shoot further than any of your archers," she said in a matter-of-fact voice.

"I can shoot further than you," Elrohir taunted. Immediately they cleared up the scattered toys into a sack and ran towards the butts. Yarna hung back, slightly unsure, as the twins began showing off their skills.

"Do you not have a bow?" Elladan asked her suddenly. She shook her head. The black-haired boy handed her his own short bow and quiver. Carefully Yarna took up position beside Elrohir.

"Lift your elbow and bend it slightly," Elladan told her from behind. She released an arrow and watched it sail through the air. It hit the target, not quite in the middle but close enough.

"Not bad." Elrohir said, hitting the centre easily. Yarna handed Elladan back his bow.

"How long are you staying?" the younger twin asked her suddenly.

"For a long time I think," she said slowly. The twins grinned.

"Then we can have you as a little sister! _Ada_ says he might foster Valandil so we would have a sort of brother. He might foster you as well, and then we could have a sister," Elrohir said happily. Yarna, however, didn't smile.

"I already have a brother, and a sister," she answered tersely. The twins' faces fell slightly. Seeing that she forced a grin. "But I can have some more!" They laughed and Yarna felt slightly better. She didn't know how long it would be until she could go home but if she had two big brothers who seemed to know more than Gandir ever did, then it would be alright.

… …

Saruman watched the little girl play with her newfound friends. He marvelled at the ability of the very young to live for the moment. In time, she would be angry of what her father had done, but for now Yarna's only worry was not to let herself be caught by Elrohir as they ran through the bushes.

… … … …

… … … …

**Author's note: Seven years disappeared somewhere along the line, sorry. To make up for it I guess it took Círdan and Yarna that long to build the boat so their parents were gone for quite a while. Either that or the siege of Barad-dûr went really quickly.**


	11. The Way We Learn

**The Way We Learn**

… …

Yarna followed the twins into the library. It was several times larger than the one her parents had built and absolutely silent. Melpomaen looked up as they came in, his wide brown eyes vaguely focused on them.

"Is Erestor here?" Elladan asked. Slowly the scribe shook his head then turned back to the eternal task that involved books and always seemed to occupy him.

"Where could he be? We need to ask him if Yarna can join us for lessons," Elrohir said, annoyed. Yarna wandered up to Melpomaen, peering over his shoulder curiously.

"Yarna? Leave him alone, we have to find Erestor," Elladan told her. Reluctantly she backed away and they left the library. They had spent the last hour trying to track down the chief advisor to ask for permission for Yarna to join in the twins' lessons.

"It is always so boring with only Ro, he never understands everything," Elladan had complained. Elrohir was also of the opinion that her presence would improve the lessons immeasurably, although he hadn't used those exact words. Suddenly Yarna had an idea.

"Maybe he is with my uncle," she said brightly. Elladan grinned but shook his head.

"No, I think he is right there." He pointed at the door to Elrond's council chamber where Erestor had just stepped out of.

"Erestor!" Elrohir cried and ran up to the advisor. Elrond appeared next to him, his dark eyebrows raised higher than Yarna would have thought possible.

"_Suilaid_ Elrohir," Erestor said, looking at the elfling in surprise. "What can I do for you?"

"Can Yarna join in our lessons? Please?" The dark-haired boy looked up pleadingly. Both elves laughed at his wide eyes. Elrond looked past him at his younger son and Yarna.

"You have never asked if any of the other children sent here may study with you, why?" he asked the twins. It was true, they had played with the newcomers but never had they asked for a classmate. Elladan looked carefully at Yarna before replying.

"But _Ada_, Yarna is going to be here for longer than the others. Edweniel is too young to share lessons with us and Melpomaen is too old. Everyone else will be going home soon. Please _Ada_." Elrond couldn't fault his son's logic. Erestor turned to him.

"He does have a point my Lord; Glorfindel raised the subject with me as well." In a quieter voice he added. "Saruman has plans for her to become his apprentice, it would be better if she were to remain with her uncle." Elrond nodded, forcing a smile.

"Well Yarna, do you wish to join the twins?" Eagerly she grinned.

"Please my Lord, I will try very hard!" she said earnestly. He laughed.

"Very well then; but be warned, they are receiving instruction on the training field as well, I hope that you can keep up." The elflings jumped around in excitement until Erestor ushered them away towards the schoolroom. Elrond watched them go then with a sigh went back to organising the mass funeral and recovery operation he had been landed.

… …

Yarna sat at the desk, a twin on either side, listening as Erestor went over the basics of Quenya conjugation. She found herself behind, not least because the twins were several years older than her, but because whilst her parents had been away she hadn't studied at all, spending all of her time building the ship with Círdan. Nevertheless she copied down the flowing runes, trying as hard as she could to keep up.

"Alright now let me see your answers." Erestor peered over the three slates. Elladan had by far the neatest writing, Yarna's was curly and childish, and Elrohir's a broad scrawl.

"Very good Elladan, Elrohir you need to revise the imperfect. Yarna, a good attempt but, ah, you may still need to work on it." He smiled encouragingly but she frowned, determined to learn the odd, archaic, language.

Once lessons were over she left the twins who had been commandeered by the housekeeper to help with cleaning their rooms. Instead she ran at full pelt to where Saruman's room was, an idea forming in her head. She knocked as high up as she could. After a moment his deep voice called out.

"Come." She entered carefully. The room was large, reflecting the power the Maia commanded, and tastefully decorated for its ever changing inhabitants. Saruman was sitting at the desk, surprised by his visitor.

"Yarna, what is it child?" he asked her. She looked around the room, noticing how bare it was.

"Saruman, can you speak Quenya?" she asked, trying not to sound as if it was important.

"Of course child, why do you ask?" She shrugged.

"Can you teach me, please?" He laughed as if she had said something incredibly funny.

"That must be the first time an elf has asked me to teach them their own language," he told her, smiling at the joke. She frowned, not understanding.

"But Sindarin is my language, not Quenya. Why is that funny?" That made him laugh again.

"They are similar, in Valinor they still speak Quenya," he told her.

"Oh, can you teach me then please?" she asked again.

"Certainly child, I assume that the twins are more advanced than you then." She nodded, pleased. Sitting herself down on the floor, legs crossed, she looked up at him expectantly. He obviously had not realised that she meant right then but he didn't show any surprise. Instead he began to talk to her, slowly and clearly, in the odd flowing tongue she barely understood. Every few phrases he would repeat himself and translate, letting her say the words back in her halting badly accented speech.

They continued like that for the rest of the afternoon until Elrohir wandered past the window, calling for her to join them in their sword practice. Immediately she thanked Saruman and ran off, giving some vague excuse to the twins as she appeared behind them. Saruman smiled after her, still chuckling slightly.

… …

Elrond stood before the assembled inhabitants as they gathered for the remembrance ceremony in honour of all of those who had died fighting Sauron. He looked out over them, from his wife and sons who were standing at the front, to Glorfindel and Erestor, a silently crying Yarna between them. He understood the blond elf's pain; he had lost Elros so many years before. However it was Gil-Galad who occupied most of his mind. His mentor, friend, and King was gone, leaving him to try and lead the Elves through the aftermath. At least he did not have to worry about Lórien or Greenwood and could trust that Lindon was in safe hands with Círdan.

The ceremony over, the elves scattered. Celebrían pointed the twins in his direction before going over to Glorfindel and his niece.

"If there is anything I can do," she said. He nodded in appreciation, hoisting Yarna up into his arms. "Isowen was a good friend." Feeling helpless to comfort them both she returned to her family.

Yarna buried her head in her uncle's shoulder.

"I want to see _Naneth_," she murmured. Gently he rubbed her back.

"One day you will, I promise. Until then you must be as good and as happy as you can." She looked up at him, her golden eyes rimmed with red.

"I want to see _Ada_ too." Glorfindel sighed. He had received a letter from Círdan who said that Mithrandir had regained his wits but on the condition that neither Isowen nor Yarna were mentioned. Gandir and Alsea, happy to have their father back to normal, complied and all memory of their mother or sister was left untouched like an open wound that they hoped time would heal. Glorfindel believed that even if Mithrandir saw what he had done he would not be able to endure the guilt of casting his daughter out, as well as his grief. Therefore there was very little chance of a family reunion any time soon. He was ready to adopt his niece, not as his own but as good as, and he was certain that Erestor felt the same way.

"One day _tithen pen_, one day." Erestor appeared, holding a letter.

"From Círdan," he said, taking Yarna. The elfling went straight back into the same position, her face buried between his shoulder and her own hair. Glorfindel opened the paper, adjusting to the formal writing.

_Glorfindel,_

_Mithrandir is planning to go to Imladris in the spring for Elrond's council. It would be wise if Yarna were to be taken to Lórien or Greenwood before that. The last thing Gandir and Alsea need if for him to come back as he first was. Nothing is going to change for quite a while so just give him time. Galadriel or Thranduil would take her in as a foster child for a short time. Besides, she will need to see more of the world than Imladris and Lindon. If you cannot be spared ask Saruman to take her, he intended to travel east anyway._

_As always, my condolences,_

_Círdan_

Erestor looked at him inquiringly. He pulled back the black tresses to reveal his niece.

"Yarna, how would you like to visit Lórien next spring?" he asked her. A small smile crept onto her face as she nodded.

"Saruman taught me Quenya," she said quietly.

"Then you can practise. Why not go and play with the twins?" Erestor put her down and she scampered off, shooting one last glance at them. They moved closer together.

"Well?" Erestor asked.

"Mithrandir is coming; Círdan thinks it would be prudent to keep them separate. I will take her to Lórien, he suggested Greenwood but it is too far and Thranduil has just lost his father. Galadriel would welcome her I am sure." They shared a glance, neither one trusting the Lady of the Wood to do anything but further her own ends.

"We should go and help Elrond, a lot of weight has suddenly been thrust upon him," Erestor said. They walked towards the council chambers where the ever-present task of restoring order to the world manifested itself into mountains of paperwork.

"Saruman taught her Quenya? How good is she?" Glorfindel asked suddenly.

"The young have a gift for languages, her accent needs work but she is nearly fluent. Her mathematics, however, leaves a lot to be desired. It would be an achievement if she could multiply by the time she reaches a thousand years." The blond elf laughed, remembering his own hatred of numerical problems.

"She only needs to count Melda, nothing more." Erestor crossed his arms, and stopped.

"I will remind you of that when the fate of the world hangs on her doing rapid long division!" Glorfindel almost laughed but Elrond opened the door looking tired and worried.

"We may have a problem _mellen nin_," he said. "Isildur is dead."

… …

… …

… …

**Please do not expect frequent updates anymore, school decided to start and exams are coming up so I apologise in advance. Thanks for reading this far, constructive criticism is welcome.**


	12. Princeling

**Princeling**

… …

Yarna stared uncertainly at the horse in front of her. He was, to her eyes, huge. He shifted his head to stare closely at the little elfling and snorted, making his new mistress jump. The lean, muscled, black horse towered over the small child. Glorfindel watched with amusement as Yarna tried to move out of Lóna's line of sight, the horse following her every step.

"Well, do you wish to ride him?" the blond elf asked. She turned around, terrified at the thought, and shook her head.

"No," Yarna said firmly. Glorfindel raised his eyebrows.

"Why not? He would not hurt you." Still she shook her head, stepping back from the animal.

"No." With that she darted out of the stables and ran head first into Saruman.

"Be careful child, what is wrong?" the Maia asked her once his initial surprise wore off. Yarna pointed at her exasperated uncle and the huge black horse.

"Uncle Glor wants me to ride that!" she cried, sending both horse and elf a glare. Saruman walked over to the horse and patted him gently on the nose.

"What is his name?" he asked.

"Lóna," Glorfindel replied, watching the wizard suspiciously. He shot him a look that clearly said _what are you up to?_ Saruman smiled and beckoned to Yarna.

"Come here child." She came over; staying as far away from Lóna's feet as possible. In one swift movement Saruman lifted her up and placed her on the horse's back. Lóna, being an elven steed, didn't as much as blink, unlike Yarna who screamed before closing her eyes in terror. Glorfindel looked shocked and hastened to his niece's rescue but Saruman waved him off.

"Now Yarna, open your eyes." The tone of his voice made her comply. "See, there is no difference to riding with one of us. Now straighten your back, look ahead and stop clinging on to the poor beast's mane." Glorfindel stared in amazement as she sat up straight and let go of the handfuls of black hair she had grabbed in panic. Yarna was still as white as a sheet but at least she was up there. Saruman offered no praise however, continuing his correction of her posture and bearing. Glorfindel began to lead Lóna out of the stables, pausing when the rider gave a squeal at the movement. Slowly they made their way out across the courtyard.

"Alright, now try on your own." Saruman nodded for Glorfindel to move away. Lóna kept going straight for the wall.

"Turn Yarna!" they both cried. At the last moment he turned, his rider grinning over her shoulder. Carefully she rode around the edge of the courtyard several times.

"How did you do that?" the blond elf asked quietly.

"Drop a puppy in water and it will swim," he said cryptically. Yarna was definitely swimming although most of it was down to Lóna. As she neared them Glorfindel stepped forward to stop the horse.

"It seems, child, that you are ready for the ride to Greenwood," Saruman said. She stared at him in surprise.

"Greenwood?" Yarna asked.

"Yes, the Queen has asked for you as a handmaiden. We are leaving in four days," the wizard told her. Gently Glorfindel lifted her off of Lóna. She turned to him in confusion.

"Why can I not stay here? Lady Celebrían is almost a queen." Her uncle sighed, knowing that he could not tell her the true reason.

"The Queen has asked for you Yarna, it is a great honour. Greenwood is a beautiful place, you will like it there." She bit her lip, unconvinced. Saruman stepped in at that point.

"There a great many things to see and learn in Greenwood child, the twins would certainly be impressed upon your return." Her eyes lit up at that, showing off to the twins was her favourite pastime. Glorfindel smiled and looked back at Lóna.

"I suppose we had better teach you to ride then," he said, hoisting her back up onto the black steed's back. Yarna patted Lóna's neck.

"Maybe he is not too big, everything looks so much smaller from here," she told them happily.

… …

The twins hadn't been too happy about her going. The three elflings had become almost inseparable over the last few years. After Elrond's decision to foster Valandil, Isildur's son, the twins had taken to calling Yarna their sister. Having lost all contact with her own siblings, she had been happy to have two new brothers. They had stood, waving from the bridge, as Yarna rode off behind Saruman, albeit slightly wobbly on Lóna.

Glorfindel watched her go before turning to Erestor beside him. The dark-haired elf placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"She will be fine Fin, do not worry." Glorfindel sighed.

"The Valar know how much I wish she did not have to leave for this reason," he muttered. Mithrandir was expected to arrive within the week; they had been cutting it fine so as not to let them meet.

"As do we all Fin," Erestor added sadly.

… …

Yarna looked out at the expanse of forest that lay before them. Stretching from the northern horizon to the south like a dark smudge on the landscape. Greenwood the Great. Nervously she urged Lóna on to catch up with Saruman. For two weeks they had ridden across the Misty Mountains and then crossed the Great River before catching their first glimpses of the Forest. To pass the time Saruman had taught her the names of every bird and plant they had seen, repeating them in Sindarin and Quenya. The wizard hadn't noticed that his audience had ceased listening after the third day, drifting in and out of her own little daydreams.

The sight of their destination, however, sparked her curiosity.

"Saruman, Uncle Glor never told me anything about the Queen who summoned me. What is she like?" Yarna asked. In her mind she imagined a beautiful lady, graceful and wise, who must be even more special than Celebrían since she was only Lady.

"Well, I have not met her but I have met the King, Thranduil. He became King after his father, Oropher died in the Last Alliance." Yarna nodded, she knew the history of all the elven realms.

"Now the elves in Greenwood are not Noldor, like you, but Sinda or Silvan. I believe that there are some differences," Saruman continued. She remembered her mother cursing the "dratted Sindar" before she left for war; they had been the subject of several arguments between her parents that she had overheard. A faint snuffling in her nose made her try to banish all thoughts of her parents but they refused to go away.

"What is the matter child?" Saruman asked her, something he did very frequently.

"Nothing," she said quietly, turning her concentration to Lóna. Carefully she increased her horse's speed until she had drawn ahead of her companion. Saruman raised his eyebrows in imitation of Elrond.

"Where do you think you are going child?" he asked. Yarna grinned impishly and waited for him to catch her up.

"To Greenwood," she told him mischievously.

... ...

After the initial awe of the great trees under which they travelled had worn off, the rest of their journey was uneventful. For three days they rode through the woods, Yarna taking a simple delight in the trees. Saruman watched her excited head bob around whilst she attempted to have half a dozen conversations with different plants at once. They arrived at the city known as Thranduil's Halls. Yarna rode in close beside Saruman as they entered the gates, watched by lightly armed Silvan guards. The majority of the city was half underground, mostly either sunken buildings or caves, but some tall houses rose to cover their entrances and beautiful gardens filled in any gaps. The palace was in the centre, rising higher than any building and going deeper. As they dismounted before the gates, Yarna tried to take in the size of the place. Unlike Elrond's house which was built to house a small settlement but was still just a house, the Palace was immense. One side bordered the forest river that ran through the city. High windows and intricate mouldings added almost too much detail.

Saruman gave her a light nudge to get her moving in the direction of the doors. A blond Silvan led them through the Palace to the presenting chamber where the Queen would greet them with her ladies. Yarna followed him, nervously flattening down her long black curls, noting how none of the Wood elves had either dark or curly hair. Saruman sent her a sharp frown that kept her still. The doors opened to reveal a much smaller room than she imagined. Tapestries covered the walls and a mosaic the floor. Seated at the far end was a blond elleth dressed in a deep green gown, her long hair flowing out from underneath a circlet of spring flowers. She was pretty, her face was warm and charming but Yarna judged her less beautiful than Celebrían. She was surrounded by other ladies, all dressed in long dresses of varying shades. Yarna looked down at her travel-stained tunic and leggings, wishing that her uncle had told her to pack at least one dress. Not that she had any dresses with her in Imladris, there hadn't been much time to pack when she had left the Havens and none had been made for her since. Saruman seemed unperturbed by his companion's attire, striding up to the lady and bowing gracefully.

"Saruman, it is a pleasure to meet you," the Queen said formally. "I regret that the King is not here to greet you, we are awaiting his return." Saruman replied in the same flowery mode of speech before stepping aside. That left Yarna standing alone in the middle of the hall, every eye fixed on her. The Queen smiled, her kind green eyes smiled too in a jolly sort of way. Yarna had never seen an elf smile like that. Her opinion of this Silvan Queen went up tenth fold. Tentatively she curtsied like she remembered doing when Gil-Galad visited the Havens.

"Mae govannen Yarna, well met daughter of Lindon." Yarna wondered what she should do, looking to Saruman for help. The Queen stood up and came over to her.

"We are glad to have you as our new handmaiden," she said. A murmur rippled through the ladies gathered. Yarna looked around at them, there were about a dozen or so, all blond and glaring at her with hard eyes. She smiled weakly, feeling out of place. Three elflings of her own age were gathered just behind the Queen's chair. They stared at her as well but not as viciously.

"Leoa, Mywen, Niphredil, come here." The three girls hurried forward. "Yarna, this is Leoa." The blond girl curtsied, winking slyly on the way up. Yarna fought to hide a grin. "Mywen." Mywen didn't curtsy, she inclined her head stiffly. "And Niphredil," the Queen said. The last girl curtsied then shot a glance at one of the elves standing nearby. Yarna decided to copy them and gracefully dipped her knees. The Queen smiled at them before taking in her clothes.

"Girls, show Yarna to your room and help her change." Leoa took her hand and led her out of the presence chamber, the other two at following at a distance.

"Ignore them," she muttered. "I do." Yarna laughed for a second before frowning.

"Why does no-one seem to like me? Apart from the Queen that is," she asked. The blond girl looked at her.

"You are Noldo; some people here do not like the Noldor. Besides, there were many other girls, who wanted your place, their families are angry that it was given to an outsider. They think that you are not, noble, enough to be the Queen's handmaiden." Yarna stared at the floor, feeling even worse. Leoa saw her mood and dragged her along faster.

"Never mind that, I do not care and my cousin shall not either. You should meet him, he is wonderful. But first you have to change, the Queen likes us all to look respectable and those clothes make you look like you are about to go training!" Yarna couldn't help but like this loud and confident elfling. The room she led her to was large, four beds were placed at regular intervals along the far wall with a ribbon of space between them. A large wardrobe stood against one wall with smaller chests at the end of each bed. Three of the beds were occupied, two neatly made but the one Leoa sat down on was not. An abundance of flowers, dolls and other items lay about the room although everyone's possessions were clearly separated. Leoa pointed to the bed next to hers, made up with a blue cover.

"That one is yours," she said. Her bed was against the wall, covered in a dark green eiderdown. Yarna saw that her saddlebags had already been deposited at the foot of her bed. The other two girls came in, standing across the room whispering. Leoa rolled her eyes at them then skipped over to the wardrobe.

"She cannot have any of our things," Mywen called out. To spite her Leoa pulled out a pink dress, very finely cut, and held it up. Mywen snatched the gown from her hand before returning to her corner. Both her and Niphredil were wearing light pink dresses, Leoa pale green, and all had flowers braided into their hair. Yarna took the mauve dress handed to her, examining it carefully. It was covered in a faint white tracing of flowers with long sleeves.

"Well put it on silly!" Leoa laughed, making her flush with embarrassment. Laying the dress on her bed she began unlacing her boots. Curiosity got the better of Niphredil and she came over hesitantly.

"Why are you wearing training clothes?" she asked Yarna.

"That is all I ever wear," the dark-haired elfling answered. Mywen sent her friend a glare and the timid blond girl scurried back over to her. Leoa began to untie the back of the dress once Yarna had taken off her tunic.

"Did no-one feed you back home?" she asked, staring at her back. Yarna shrugged, she had never noticed her ribs nor paid much attention to her skinny arms. She was thin, even for an elf. The hours spent running after the twins coupled with her long bouts of not eating when she was upset, which had been quite often recently, had left her a very slight elfling. She shrugged, pulling the dress up to hide herself. Leoa frowned but proceeded to tighten the back until it no longer looked as if it would fall down. When she was done she pushed Yarna in a twirl, admiring the dress.

"It suits you," she said. "No do you even know what a hairbrush is?" They all laughed, Mywen more out of spite than humour. Yarna brushed out her long dark hair, noting that it was far longer than the others'. Whilst the blond elves' hair reached half-way down their backs, hers fell below her elbows.

"I have never seen anyone with black hair before, do a lot of Noldor look like you?" Leoa asked.

"Quite a few but my uncle is blond and so are most of the people in Lórien," Yarna told her.

"Do they all have eyes like a cat too?" Mywen asked, sneering, from her corner. Yarna shook her head.

"Just me and…" she stopped and picked up the hairbrush again. "What do I do with it now?" she asked, changing the subject. Leoa held out some pale purple flowers.

"I do not think you should do anything to it, you can wear these another time." She handed Yarna a pair of small white shoes.

"Boots are more practical and you cannot see them under my dress," Yarna said, pulling her own shoes back on. They ignored the cough from Mywen.

Leoa opened the door and the four girls made their way towards the gardens where the Queen usually spent the afternoon. They curtsied together before sitting slightly apart from the ladies.

"What exactly are we meant to do?" Yarna asked quietly.

"In the mornings we have lessons, sometimes together, sometimes with the boys. Then for the rest of the day we are to fetch anything the Queen wants and run errands. In the evenings we either play or if we are allowed we can dance and sing in the great hall before bed," Leoa told her.

"That all sounds boring, at home we would spend all morning playing or practising with the guard then Erestor would teach us for the afternoon. If he was busy we would have Celebrían or Melpomaen instead. Celebrían used to teach us how to play music; she is very good at singing." They all looked around as someone approached them.

"Legolas," the Queen said happily.

"_Suilaid Naneth_," the blond boy replied. He was slightly older than Yarna, but she guessed younger than the twins. After his mother had asked him how he was and what he was doing, he came to sit with the four of them.

"Legolas! This is Yarna. Yarna, meet Legolas. I told you about him earlier," Leoa said. The blond boy looked curiously at her.

"_Mae govannen _Yarna, welcome to Greenwood." She smiled, holding out a hand to shake. Legolas went to take it but she moved before he could.

"It is very nice to be here," she said. He grinned, not expecting a girl to know how to play like boys did; the other three stared at her in shock, even Leoa. They were all little ladies, far above childish tricks. Yarna looked closely at the prince. He was not much taller than her, definitely shorter than the twins, and slighter too. His blond hair was braided back so that it fell down his back neatly. Legolas wore green legging and a lighter tunic, both embroidered in gold thread. He had, Yarna noticed, a very wide smiled.

"So this is Saruman's daughter." He seemed impressed. She frowned, Saruman was not her father, there must be some mistake.

"I did not know he was married. Where is your mother then?" Mywen asked harshly. Yarna hesitated. As much as she knew it was wrong to lie, she did not want to tell these four strangers (two of which hardly seemed nice) that her _Ada_ had not wanted her. It seemed so much easier to simply say that Saruman was her father.

"My mother is dead," she said simply. Both Leoa and Legolas gave her sympathetic looks but they did not really understand what the word meant. Mywen seemed about to add something, her sneer had upped a scale so Yarna added: "She died alongside Gil-Galad." Mywen's comment stuck in her throat. After a brief awkward moment Legolas jumped up.

"How much of the city have you seen?" he asked.

"Almost none," Yarna replied. The prince grinned, hurrying over to his mother.

"_Naneth_, may Yarna be excused? I would show her the city and palace." The Queen smiled graciously and gave them permission providing she was not robbed of all of her handmaidens. Mywen and Niphredil stayed where they were, turning up their noses at the other two girls.

"Do not mind them, Mywen hates everyone except herself and Niphredil is her shadow," Leoa told her. "Come, we will show you the workshops first!" She skipped away in front. The other two ran after her, turning into a race half-way through. Yarna, unused to skirts, ran lopsidedly but managed to keep up with Legolas.

"Do you have brothers?" he asked suddenly.

"Yes, why?"

"You run like a boy," he said simply. Yarna rolled her eyes.

"No, you run like a girl. Not so much a prince as a princeling." Legolas frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"Princes are brave and strong and rescue princesses; Kings are wise and have beautiful Queens. You are neither but if you try you might be a prince. Until then however, you are a princeling," she told him very fast, confusing him slightly.

"Then what are you?" he asked slowly, still working out what she had just said. She sighed.

"Nothing," Yarna said simply.

"I think that you should be a princess then," Legolas declared. She laughed.

"You have to be born a princess or marry a prince. You cannot just become one like that!"

"Oh, maybe my father can, he can do anything. You can be a princess, I promise." They had caught up with Leoa now. Yarna laughed at how simple Legolas seemed, she could talk him into doing anything, she was sure.

… … …

… … …

**Okay, long chapter there, or at least longer than usual. Four new OC's but I think Tolkien forgot Legolas' mum so she doesn't count. Sorry but there simply aren't enough girls. **_**Mae govannen: well met, Suilaid: greetings.**_** Handmaidens are pretty much girl pages, there to run errands and look pretty, sort of like maids in waiting. Greenwood only becomes Mirkwood once Sauron moves there in about 1000 years' time.**


	13. Greenwood

**Greenwood**

**... **

Yarna watched as Mywen twirled around their room, showing off her new dress. Her father, a powerful commander in the Greenwood army, liked to shower her with the best. Niphredil gazed on with a mixture of jealousy and awe. Leoa ignored her; busy with the game of chess she was currently losing to Yarna. Mywen, searching for a chance to boast some more, turned on the dark haired elfling.

"Does your father ever give you dresses Yarna? You do not seem to have very many." Yarna looked up, her little face screwed up in a frown. She didn't answer. Leoa, her bishop all but taken, stepped in.

"Leave her alone," she told the spoilt elfling. Mywen sneered at her.

"That is no way to talk to the future Queen!" There was absolute silence for a second before Leoa jumped up, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"What makes you say that?" she asked, her voice deadly quiet.

"Father says it is as good as settled," Mywen answered, somewhat taken aback. Yarna looked at them both in confusion.

"What is going on?" she asked. Leoa was about to answer when a knock on the door made them all jump. Niphredil hurried to open it. Legolas' head peered around.

"Yarna, your father wants to see you," he said. Mywen crossed to the centre of the room.

"How do like my dress Legolas?" she asked, twirling around. The boy cast her a brief glance.

"Uh, very pink. Yarna?" The dark-haired elfling skipped past Mywen and out into the corridor. The Sindar looked put-out at Legolas' comment and lack of interest.

"Did he say why?" Yarna asked as they walked towards the council wing. She bounded along next to the prince.

"You need a reason? If my Father said he wanted to see me, I would be there before he had finished speaking." Yarna laughed until she realised Legolas was serious.

"Why would you do that?" He looked down, squirming slightly.

"Father does not like to be kept waiting, not for me anyway." Yarna thought that Thranduil must always be very busy not be ready to wait for anyone, even Elrond had time to wait for people who had things to do before they spoke to him. Not that her uncles had ever kept Elrond waiting long and no-one made Círdan wait for them. They were at the door to one of the smaller, less formal council chambers, Legolas knocked softly before entering. Saruman was sitting at a table, along with an elf Yarna didn't recognise.

"Ah, come here child," the White wizard told her. She walked over to them slowly, uncomfortable as the other elf stared at her.

"Hello Galion," Legolas said brightly, following her. The blond elf pulled out a chair for the prince beside him, Saruman did not.

"Yarna, I have had a report from your tutors. You are not doing well in lessons." She squirmed under his disapproving gaze.

"Sorry Father," she mumbled. Saruman froze.

"What did you say?" he asked very quietly, surprisingly quiet for someone who wasn't an elf.

"I am sorry Father," she repeated, slightly louder. Legolas frowned at her, a questioning gaze. Saruman was about to stand before he thought better of it.

"You are going to share lessons with the boys. You will be training with them under Galion." Galion ignored her.

"Yes Father," Yarna said, hoping that her public scolding was now over. It wasn't. Saruman rose, striding to a door behind the conference table.

"Yarna," he called. Shooting Legolas a pleading glance, she followed. Once the door was shut, the wizard turned to her. He didn't seem too angry despite his stern voice.

"Firstly, why are you not doing as well as you did with Erestor?" he asked her. She looked around, trying not to catch his eye.

"I do not like learning to sew, dance or housekeeping. I want to learn statecraft, like Elrond and my uncles. I do not want to be a Lady, I want to learn how to meet with Kings and fight battles." She stopped, glancing up hopefully.

"Why would you want to learn that?" Saruman asked, one eyebrow raised curiously. With the earnest enthusiasm most young children have, she wittered on.

"I want to go home, back to Lindon and help Elrond now that there is no High King. I want to go back to my uncles and help them. I know that things are not going well; Legolas says that there are problems but the ladies know nothing. In Imladris we always knew so much more of what was going on. When I grow up, I am going to be like Erestor and help Elrond." Saruman laughed quietly.

"So you want to be an advisor, do you not want to stay here?" he asked. Yarna floundered, unsure.

"I do want to stay… Just maybe not forever. We are staying right Father?" She looked up, her golden eyes wider than normal. Saruman chuckled.

"Yes, of course you are. Why have you taken to calling me father? You know that is not who I am."

"The others just assumed… I did not want them to know…" She broke off, trying to put a braver face on. In a squeak she added. "Maybe a Father is less likely to leave." Saruman stared at her for a moment.

"Of course child. Now run along, Legolas will take you to meet the others." He gave her an awkward pat on the head. She caught him by surprise and hugged him tightly. She ran off, grinning.

…

Legolas watched as Yarna came running up to him, wearing her own leggings and tunic again. She grinned at him, pulling her sword belt so that it faced the right way. Galion, the prince's instructor, was setting up wooden dummies. He was not happy that Saruman's daughter was joining his ward for lessons, in his opinion girls should not be allowed within ten feet of any weapons. He looked at the little elfling suspiciously. She wandered over to the practice dummies curiously. Legolas took out two wooden staves shaped like long knives.

"Why not use real blades?" Yarna asked him. Galion laughed.

"Since when have you been allowed to use real blades?" She glared at him.

"Always." Yarna pulled out her small sword, darting at the dummy. She landed two blows before the heavy limbs swung back at her. She jumped out of the way, taking a notch out of the dummy's head. Legolas stared at her in awe. Galion watched her, trying not to be impressed.

"Alright, Yarna have you received training before?" It was a stupid question.

"My uncle taught me." Galion frowned, trying to work out who she could mean.

"What is your uncle's name?" he asked, sure that Saruman could not possibly have a brother.

"Glorfindel." He stared at her. Glorfindel? No wonder she was good. Legolas came over, his staves in his hands.

"Can we spar?" he asked Galion. The tutor paused, thinking.

"Go ahead." They grinned and took their places a few paces apart. Suddenly, Galion snatched Yarna's blade from her hands, giving her a wooden stave instead. She leapt at the young blond boy, catching him off guard. Legolas raised a stave to ward her off but she changed to hit him squarely on the leg.

"Ow!" She didn't leave off though, taking another shot at him. Legolas managed to parry her blow, using his height to hit at her shoulders. Galion watched, amused, as they hit at each other. Both elflings had the innate grace of their race and both were well trained but they were very different. Legolas had height and the use of both hands as well as a huge amount of strength in his arms from having spent his childhood holding a bow. Yarna was quicker, smaller and danced around him, avoiding his staves. Galion could see that she was used to fighting taller, stronger opponents and had been taught to use her seize to her advantage. He lost count of the amount of times she slipped under Legolas' guard and hit him under the chin. That only served to make the young prince eager to beat her at the game and he began to hammer crushing blows down on her.

"Control your blows Legolas!" Galion shouted, reminding him not to slash down too hard. Yarna jumped around behind him, tripping him up. Victorious, she skipped away. Legolas groaned, lifting himself off the ground. Galion smiled slightly as an idea struck him.

"Laurina!" A Silvan girl about their age turned around. "Come here!" He thought that maybe Yarna would not do nearly as well against someone her own seize. Laurina was the same height as Yarna but slightly less scrawny.

"Here, have a go at sparing with Yarna." The girls nodded to each other. Laurina also had a wooden sword, unlike Legolas' twin mock-knives. Galion watched them, seeing immediately that they were completely evenly matched. Neither had an advantage in height or strength, both had been learning for the same amount of time but under different tutors. From Yarna's technique, Galion could tell some of what Glorfindel's style must be like, just as he recognized his own flaws in Laurina. Legolas watched on, knowing full well that he could not possibly beat either girl.

"Stick to the bow boy, these two are the exceptions that prove the rule." Legolas frowned.

"What rule?" he asked. Galion smiled, watching the girls carefully.

"That girls should never be allowed near weapons."

…

**Yarna's not a prodigy; Glorfindel has trained her to save the world for years. She is about 9 now, Legolas about 11. Thanks for those who favourite this and IIHD, review if there are bad bits which there must be (Murphy's law).**


	14. The Storm

**The Storm**

… …

Yarna stared out at the darkness beyond the glass pane. The window was high up in the wall yet only just above ground level. She could barely make out the rain slanting across it, only illuminated by the occasional flash of lightening. She really hated storms. Not that she was scared of them; it was just that it reminded her of how weak and futile everything she did was. Bad things happened in storms, she thought until she scolded herself for being so childish. Storms were part of nature, as common as sunny days. Except she couldn't help the thought that something was wrong.

"Not wrong exactly," a voice said suddenly. She jumped, turning around but the room was empty. It was close to midnight and the small anti-chamber near the throne room was deserted.

_"I thought we might have a chat. You should get used to me,"_ the voice continued. It was a girl's voice, similar to her own but with a slightly different accent. Yarna had spent so much time perfecting her Greenwood accent until she had heard Mywen mocking her. Then she had reverted to the strongest Lindon accent she could, speaking quicker and higher. The girl's voice had an almost lilting quality that nearly matched Celebrían's but not quite.

"Who are you?" Yarna whispered, thinking that the darkness hid another elf.

_"Colmith."_ She gasped in surprise, remembering the name she had given herself in the woods when the Men had shot her from a tree. Then she frowned.

"That did not answer my question," she said, still looking around suspiciously. _Colmith chuckled slightly._

_"I am just a voice; you will not be able to see me. You have something important to do Yarna and I am going to help you."_ Yarna thought back, remembering a conversation she had once had with Bruiwen.

...

_They were sitting in a tree, as they usually were; only days after their parents had left. Bruiwen had led her up there, handing her an apple once they reached the top._

"_Yarna, do you talk to people much?" the older girl had asked suddenly. Yarna, still very small, had been concentrating on her apple. She screwed up her face in thought._

"_I talk to you a lot and Círdan sometimes," she said slowly, not quite sure what the question meant._

"_Anyone else?" Bruiwen seemed worried._

"_Naneth, Ada and the trees. I talk to Alsea but she never listens, neither does Gandir." The older elfling had stared at her very closely._

"_No-one else, someone only you talk to?" Yarna shook her head and Bruiwen looked almost disappointed._

"_Why?" she asked, her apple forgotten._

"_There should be someone else to help you, never mind."_

_..._

Yarna sat down on the bench she had been standing on to look through the window. There almost seemed a pleased silence to be coming from Colmith.

"How long have you been there?" Yarna asked.

_"Always, only I wanted to get to know you first. Being in your head is interesting." Colmith gave the impression that she was older than Yarna._

_"No, I just did not need to go through the whole infancy bit. Now that your mind can support us both, I can mature along with you."_ Yarna didn't know whether to find that insulting or not. It was clear, however, that Colmith could tell what she was thinking.

"You said that something was not wrong exactly, what did you mean?" she asked, silently this time, thinking it instead of saying it out loud.

_"Something that was meant to happen, although it is bad news for Mirkwood."_ Yarna frowned, not recognising the name.

_"Greenwood is not as safe as you thought. No matter though, something else has to happen tonight. We can carry on our conversation later," Colmith said, falling silent._ A thousand questions popped up in Yarna's mind and she was thankful that she needn't voice them, not knowing which should come first. The soft sound of footsteps made her freeze. She wasn't supposed to be out of bed, let alone so near the throne room. A shadow passed by the door, too small to be an adult.

"Legolas?" she whispered, seeing the familiar blond braids. The _ellon_ crept through the door.

"What are doing here Yarna?" he asked quietly, coming over to the bench.

"I wanted to watch the storm, what are you doing?" Legolas grinned.

"Walking around, I like it when there is no-one else." She stood up, peering back out of the window.

"Go somewhere else then, if you like no-one around." She hadn't meant for it to sound harsh, it just did. Legolas looked up at her, his wide green eyes staring out of the darkness.

"I do not mind you," he murmured quietly. She sighed, feeling bad that she had upset him.

"Come up here then and take a look." Eagerly he jumped up next to her, peering out of the small window. Sometimes it was hard to remember that he was older than her, he usually seemed so innocent and sweet. Until he drew his knives. Galion had let them progress to real weapons a while ago, saying that they were old enough to be fairly responsible.

"Why are we looking at the storm?" he asked suddenly. Yarna sighed in exasperation.

"Do you have anything else to do?" He shook his head, and then paused.

"Are you staying here?" Yarna looked at him in surprise.

"Why, do you think I may leave?" Legolas turned a curious shade of scarlet.

"My Father wants me to have some education in foreign diplomacy. He is sending me to Imladris." They were silent for a moment, watching the storm rage against the buildings outside. Finally Legolas spoke.

"I could ask, if you could come with me," he began, cautiously, whilst his face and ears turned even brighter shades of red.

"Father will let me, he wants to leave anyway. This means I get to see my uncles!" He smiled at her enthusiasm.

"That may not be such a good idea. Things have changed since you left," Colmith said, causing Yarna to jump.

"Such as?" she demanded silently. No reply was forthcoming.

"I could not imagine not seeing my family for, how long have you been here, two centauries? More?"

"About that. We write often enough. I do want to see them again though." Yarna sat down on the bench, tilting her head back to see him. Legolas looked down at her for a moment before going back to the window.

"Why were you worried about me not going with you?" she asked.

_"Are you incredibly sheltered or just thick?" Colmith commented. "Why do you think he was?"_ Yarna let the darkness hide a small grin. _Colmith sighed._

_"Wonderful, I have to put up with you for the next forever."_ It was all Yarna could do to not laugh out loud.

"Just wondering," Legolas said, failing at shrugging it off. He did not know that he had two girls laughing at him instead of the one.

"Be quiet," Yarna told Colmith, trying to gather some sympathy for Legolas from those assembled in her head. She decided that having Colmith was like having a slightly more talkative and insulting Bruiwen in her head.

"Besides, if I had to take someone with me, at least you might like it." That sounded like a slightly better reason if not for the fact that Legolas had now turned impossibly crimson.

"Should we stop torturing him?" Yarna asked Colmith.

_"This is going to be fun," she said with heavy sarcasm._ Yarna did her best to ignore her and stood back up.

"Of course we will come with you," she told him. He seemed relieved.

"Good. Do you still want to see the storm?" Yarna sighed, jumping off the bench completely.

"No, I am going back to bed. Goodnight Princeling." She skipped off out of the room, leaving him standing alone in the dark.

… …

"Why did he ask you?" Mywen almost screeched across the room. She hurled a shoe at Yarna, who ducked. The blond girl shot her a death glare that would have been scary had Yarna not been trained to wrestle most things.

"Maybe because she is likable and his friend. Maybe since she does not spend every minute looking like a," Leoa said quietly before remembering that Yarna and Niphredil were still classed as children. All four had grown considerably. Leoa was now taller than most _ellith_ and was soon to be moving to her own rooms. Both she and Mywen no longer belonged in the nursery, they were young adolescents now. Niphredil and Yarna were still relatively young. Mywen turned to the older girl.

"You are just jealous. Why on earth would he want that Maia brat to go with him?" Leoa laughed.

"Now look who is jealous. Forget it Mywen, Legolas never even liked you." Yarna glanced at Niphredil. They had gradually become closer as the older two spent less time with them.

"We should clear out before they start throwing things," the blond girl suggested. Yarna nodded and they skipped over to the door. Mywen pulled her braid sharply.

"Stay away from him," she spat, attempting to fling her across the room. It failed since Yarna had been pushed around by her siblings, then the twins, then the Silvan children. Mywen had only ever thrown tantrums and shoes, her hands better suited to fine art than fighting. Yarna did not demean herself by pushing back.

"Maybe you should stay up during storms," she said sweetly as she shut the door.

… …

… …

**They're about 1(Yarna and Niphredil) and 14/15. Legolas is about 14 too. Message me if you would like to see some fluffy one shots about them all growing up, I just need to get this story rolling. **


	15. The True Test

**The True Test**

… …

Yarna rode beside Legolas, allowing Lóna to follow the others, whilst she nailed out a few points with Colmith. So far she had gained very little information as to what it was she had to do and she suspected that Colmith did not actually know. The more they spoke, however, the more she grew to like the mysterious voice that always appeared to come from her left ear. So she rode, in a sort of daze, having an internal conversation. The journey to Imladris was longer than she remembered, dragging on forever. Once again they skirted the borders of Lórien as one would avoid a cesspit, the distant trees earning glares and curses from the Silvan guards. Yarna had somehow managed not to pick up any Greenwood prejudices; to her Lórien was a mythical land that periodically let wonderful creatures such as Lady Celebrían wander amongst the duller beings. Legolas had soon gotten bored of hearing about how wonderful the Lady of Imladris was, desperate to hear more about the twins with whom he would be soon sharing tutors. Yarna, once Colmith had decided that she had enough information, was happy to tell him details about the valley and its inhabitants. Eventually they reached the mountains. Legolas gazed at them in wonder, having never actually seen anything besides trees before. Even the open plain and far horizons had made him skittish.

"Do they have mountains in Lindon?" he asked suddenly.

"Some, the Blue Mountains and the Ered Luin once marked the eastern boundaries of Beleriand," Yarna answered. Legolas went strangely quiet, looking around at everything that was new to him.

"Endearing," Saruman said to her in Quenya. With a sigh she realised that she would once more be expected to learn the language, something she had gladly forgotten.

"I had better practice," she said glumly. "Talk to me Father, or else Erestor will give me picture books to read." Saruman smiled slightly, one eyebrow raised.

"Well, I daresay you are more proficient than Legolas." Recognising his name amongst the strange words, the blond elfling turned around.

"Do they speak a different language in Imladris?" he asked worriedly. Yarna laughed.

"No, we are just expected to learn Quenya," she explained. Legolas' eyes narrowed slightly.

"Tongue of the kin-slayers," he muttered darkly. Yarna turned on him in an explosion of fury he had never seen in her before.

"We are not! How dare you blame us for that! Thingol outlawed Quenya yet he was no better!" She continued to screech at him, delving into her memory for insults.

…

"_What does he think he is doing? Oropher is going to get us all killed!" Isowen yelled. Mithrandir, less angry, put down the papers he had been holding wearily._

"_He is doing what he thinks is best. Calm down Isowen, you'll wake the children." Isowen lowered her voice, snatching up a letter._

"_Look what he says: if you have a problem with this, I shall graciously consider your advice. After all, you are not unaccustomed to slaying," she read out, her voice now quiet with compressed fury. Mithrandir shrugged._

"_What is the problem? Sauron has been raiding Eriador much longer than Greenwood." That sent her flying again._

"_Slaying Mithrandir, he could have used war or killing or battles, but he used __**slaying**__. Now is not the time for him to remind us of what happened at Doriath!"_

"_Why must you always go back to that? Put aside your hatred of the Sindar Isowen, it is unfounded. The First Age is over!"_

_Yarna shrunk back into the shadows beside Gandir. They exchanged worried glances._

"_What do they mean?" she asked quietly, making sure that the door was firmly closed. Her brother scowled._

"_The Sindar are going to lose us the war," he told her._

…

"Yarna!" Saruman pulled her shoulder roughly. "Stop it." She clamped her mouth shut, realising what she had just said. All her life she had been told stories of before the War of Wrath by her mother, always pinning the blame on anyone besides the Noldor. For a moment she wondered if maybe Legolas had been told a different version of events, one that led him to despise Lórien and anyone of Noldo descent. The Silvan guards stared at her, some finding her outburst amusing, others glaring at her. Legolas just looked at her, his forest-green eyes wide in surprise. Saruman did not let go of her shoulder.

"Calm down child." There was something in his voice that said he was disappointed in her. Slowly she lowered her head, ashamed.

"_Dihena nin_, forgive me," she said quietly. Saruman gave Lóna a nudge, leading the party onwards. Legolas stayed back, well out of her way. For a while they rode on in an uncomfortable silence until they reached a narrow gulley. They spread out into single file, Yarna directly behind her Father.

Something made her start, a faint whisper that was not natural. The hairs on her neck stood on end.

"Father," she said softly. Saruman kept going as the other elves stiffened. The guard reached for their weapons.

"I know child, keep riding." She complied, sensing eyes on her.

The ambush came just as they cleared the narrowest part. Saruman drove his horse to the left, allowing Yarna past him. All around the orcs came crashing down from the shrubbery. Their stench turned her stomach. Without thinking she drew her sword.

"Take Legolas and go!" he called. Legolas, however, had other ideas. He had already loosened and arrow into the chest of one orc, another was halfway to the bowstring. One of the guards thumped his stallion's rump, sending him after Yarna. A hideous creature lunged at her leg, a crude blade raised high. Automatically, as if it were training with Galion, Yarna parried, letting it slide harmlessly past her. Her own blow, a quick swipe to the orc's neck, was not so harmless. Blood gushed out, spilling across Lóna's coat and Yarna's chest. The orc made a pathetic gurgle as its life soaked into the ground. Bile rose in Yarna's throat, it was all she could do to keep it down. Legolas looked up at her, his arrow still unfired. She wondered why he had not shot, before she saw that the other orcs were already dead at the hands of Saruman and the Silvans. Legolas was looking distinctly green, his mouth clenched shut.

"Is everyone alright?" one Silvan asked. A murmur of yeses answered, there were no injuries. Yarna was aware that Legolas was still staring at her.

"What?" she asked then looked down at herself. She had blood and other things she did not want to name smeared over her right leg and over Lóna. They shared an unvoiced comment. This was not training.

"_The true test is when it is more than just orcs," Colmith said. She made it sound as if orcs were not living beings._

"_You have no room for sensibilities like that. Orcs, goblins, trolls, spiders, kill them all as you would dummies." Yarna did not have to express her shock._

"_How can you be so heartless?" she demanded. Colmith mentally shrugged._

"_Get used to it."_

Legolas swallowed whatever had risen to his mouth, refusing to look around too much.

"Let us get to Imladris; the rest of their clan can clean them," Saruman ordered, leading the way once more. Eyes averted, Yarna followed him, pausing to wipe her blade on a nearby bush.

… …

**I hope that Colmith's conversations are clearer now, sorry for any confusion. I need to get the backstory up to date before I continue much more and maybe more of Angel too. Thanks for reading, **_**Navaer mellen nin**_**.**


	16. Children Of Imladris

**Children of Imladris**

… …

Yarna dismounted, only to be encompassed by the twins the moment she touched ground.

"We missed you!" Elrohir told her repeatedly.

"We have another sister," Elladan said quietly, pulling away. Yarna turned to see the most beautiful girl she had ever seen standing on the steps. She was taller than Yarna, but perfectly proportioned. She smiled graciously, like a Queen surveying her people. Except the Queen in Greenwood never looked so haughty, never gazed at you with chillingly cold grey eyes. Like a pair of diamonds they stared at Yarna as if she was of no importance.

"Yarna, meet Arwen." She couldn't help but grin at the subtle snub. Years of Mywen had taught her how to treat people who thought they were better than most. Arwen did not spare her another moment, moving on to Legolas.

"_Mae govannen_ your highness," she said. Yarna frowned, there was a touch of the usual fawning note people often used with Legolas in Arwen's voice. The blond _ellon_ bowed, his well-practiced manners coming into play.

"How old is she?" she whispered to Elladan.

"She was born a year after you left," he answered. Arwen did seem very old for her years, almost as if she had skipped babyhood entirely. Yarna put it down to her half-human heritage. She did not give the twins' sister another thought as she spotted her uncles. In a flash she had crossed the courtyard and hurled herself at them, managing to hug them both at the same time. Glorfindel laughed and picked her up as if she was still a small elfling.

"I see Greenwood has taught you nothing of decorum," Erestor said, smiling. Yarna crossed her eyes at him.

"Or manners," he added.

"So, what happened? We have not seen you for ages!" Glorfindel asked as he lowered her to the ground. She at once began to tell them about her stay in Greenwood, causing them to laugh again.

"Tell us later, your companion looks a little lost," Erestor said, pointing at Legolas. Arwen was talking to him, gesturing grandly.

"What is she like?" Yarna asked her uncles suddenly. They shared a glance, hesitating.

"Beautiful child," Erestor mumbled quickly.

"Very sensitive," Glorfindel added. Yarna narrowed her eyes suspiciously. The blond elf was the first to crack.

"Go and ask the twins," he said finally. She gave them both a kiss then ran back to Legolas.

"Come on, you cannot just leave your bags here." He picked up the bags the grooms had removed from his saddle, slinging her own over his shoulder. He grinned at her, daring her to object.

"Lead the way my lady," he said with mock courtesy. She rolled her eyes but headed into the house. Arwen followed at a distance, almost floundering at the lack of attention. They reached the nursery corridor, Elrohir's shouts coming from one room.

He was jumping up and down on the large bed, calling out to them.

"Just testing it for you Legolas!" Elladan tried to pull him off, apologising. Legolas dropped the bags and leapt up next to Elrohir.

"_Hannon le_, it seems fine. Come and try Yarna!" All four of them ended up on the bed, leaping around and laughing. Arwen watched from the door.

"I am going to tell _Ada_, you are not allowed to do that," she said loudly. Legolas stopped suddenly.

"Ignore her, she will not actually go," Elladan said.

"Will too!" Arwen shouted, sounding like a spoilt toddler. Yarna jumped down, going over to her.

"Go on then," she said quietly. Arwen sated at her with narrow grey eyes. "Go and tell Elrond." Yarna straightened up, laughing. "Empty threats Arwen, just empty threats."

… …

"I used to want a sister; now I am glad I only have a cousin!" Legolas said as the four left the schoolroom. Arwen, still too young to share their lessons, was not present.

"We wanted a sister," Elladan began.

"So we adopted Yarna," Elrohir finished. They had taken to speaking like that to wind Legolas up and confuse him as to which twin was which.

"There is only room for three Peredhil," a sulky voice said from the shadows. Arwen glared at Yarna. The older four looked at her, Legolas fidgeting awkwardly, the twins retuning her glare. Yarna simply shrugged.

"Come on princeling," she said, heading out to the gardens. The boys followed. As he passed, Elrohir hissed at his sister.

"Be careful, it may not be you who is the third."

… …

The group of children in Imladris expanded over the next few weeks. The twins, Yarna and Legolas were joined by Edweniel, the daughter of two guards from northern Lindon. For most of the day they trained with Glorfindel or the guard, depending on his duties, Erestor spent a few hours with them in the schoolroom before they were let out to occupy themselves. Lindir, the head musician, was often willing to show them a new song although only Edweniel showed any promise.

"Just accept it Elladan, you cannot sing soprano. Ever," Lindir told him after twenty seconds of him trying to match Legolas' voice.

"Then how come he can?" Elladan asked, pointing accusingly at the blond elf.

"Believe me; Legolas only has about another twenty years of reaching the high notes. Now, keep in key with Ro and it will sound alright." Lindir had the three boys and Edweniel lined up, and was attempting to form some sort of choir. Yarna loitered near the window of the music room, sending unhelpful comments their way.

"See how, when Ro gets it right he's Ro, but no matter what Elladan is never Dan," she said, leafing through a collection of sheet music.

"Yarna, either be quiet or go back to the piano," Lindir told her. She crossed her eyes at him but sat down again on the stool.

"Come and sing Yarna," Edweniel said, looking forlorn amongst the boys.

"Yarna is the only one out of you who can play the piano, I need her help. Besides, you do not need her to show you up," Lindir answered.

"She is only better than us because you teach her," Elrohir pointed out.

"She listens, now try and stay in tune." They managed to stay together for the entire first verse of the ballad before Elladan went wildly off key. Lindir buried his head in his hands, giving off an overly dramatic sigh.

"I give up. You are hopeless Dan." They all laughed. Finally Lindir straightened up.

"Alright, Elladan, you can go and sit in the corner and be quiet. Yarna, come here and take lead." He moved them around, disappointed at the lack of choristers.

"What we really need is about four or five more of you," he muttered. "Alright, start again." They began to sing the first verse, Yarna deliberately keeping her voice quiet so that the others could be heard.

"When the cold of Winter comes

Starless night will cover day

In the veiling of the sun

We will walk in bitter rain."

Lindir grinned, waving them on. They did sound good; Edweniel could reach the high notes well enough, Legolas even better whilst Elrohir backed them up with a lower harmony. They finished to a round of applause from Lindir and Elladan.

"You really are amazing," Lindir said softly, although they were not sure if it was to them all.

… …

**Ok the twins don't hate Arwen, she just annoys them and they really liked Yarna since she was sort of their sister for a long time before she went to Greenwood. Yes more OCs but again there are simply no children or girls to work with!**

**To sharNZ: Thanks for the review. Colmith isn't Valar or a random voice, she's there to keep Yarna sane (as odd as that sounds) through what is going to happen. She doesn't know much about the world because she's only seen a few things. She'll be more important later on, sorry she was confusing. I'm glad you like it; I'll get to the big battles like Fornost soonish.**

**Yarna is NOT a Mary-Sue, she fails at maths and archery (for and elf), we're all allowed to be good at stuff right?**


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